


The Son and The Secuity

by corinnemaree



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, President's Son - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 08:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 27,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2060307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corinnemaree/pseuds/corinnemaree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton, the President's son, has always had fun with his security detail, but when his father finds out about his exploits, his new security detail, Natasha Romanoff, isn't taking any of his shit. The two don't get along, with Clint messing around and never being a reasonable person. But when things become heated between the two, they might just get along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clint

**Author's Note:**

> I am hopeless and I came up with this idea and it hurts me cause I have so many feels for this. I'm so sorry if you continue to read this story cause it might hurt you later on

Clint sat in his officially assigned seat. He was surrounded by men and women in suits, perfectly straight, without a stain or detection of lint. Clint, on the other hand, didn’t wear a blazer, and refused to sit upright in his chair. His arms were folded, touching the edges of his rolled up sleeves.  His Father, President Barton, rattled on about some new reform that was taking place, Clint didn’t know why he was there. He guessed his father wanted to keep up appearances or something. His mother and father had split up several months before hand, but still acted like they were married for the sake of his political career. It was disgusting seeing his parents act like they loved each other, when they really yelled a shit storm behind the scenes of the media.

The only good thing that Clint found about his father being the president, was the fact that his security guard was always a female, and he always had fun with them in one way or another. He first had Bobbi, and damn she was a flawless piece of art. She moved away from DC, in her official statement she said she was ‘distracted,’ and felt that she ‘put her protection at risk’. His current security was Jessica, a strong girl in all areas, and Clint had been to many areas with Jess. He looked around for Jess, he needed a pick-me-up as soon as this speech was over, but he couldn’t find her. The crowd started to applaud, and Clint lazily joined, rolling his eyes as he was told to stand. The security detail followed Clint and escorted him to the oval office. He didn’t particularly like the White House; he found politics to be quite boring and didn’t bother learning what his father’s campaign stood for.

“Son,” His father started, leaning against the desk. “We need to talk about Jessica.”

“Shoot,” Clint rolled his eyes. His father sighed and offered Clint to take a seat.

“We had to let Jessica go. We are getting you a new personal bodyguard,”

“What do you mean I’m getting a new bodyguard? Jess was doing just fine,” Clint slouched inside the folds of the couch.

“I don’t see sleeping with you as part of her job. She is there to protect you, not fuck you” His father shouted, combing a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Watch it dad, you never know where they have eyes and ears” Clint smirked, and His father slammed his hand down to his desk. Clint flinched slightly before his brow creased.

“Don’t you start, Clint. I’ve had it with you. You are getting a new bodyguard, and you won’t be sleeping with her at all” His father’s voice was raised, and he sat in his chair which made him look like the massive dickhead he was.

“Don’t hire women and maybe we wouldn’t have this problem,” Clint muttered, his father glaring.

“Get out, now,” His voice was low and angry. Clint stood in a huff, placing his hands in his pockets, and strided out of the room.

That night he drank, calling Jess numerous times and got no response. It was not a good time for Clint. At least he didn’t have to be at university until next week; he could get plastered until then.

***

Alcohol wasn’t as nice coming back up his throat, Clint thought to himself the next morning. He had lost track of how many drinks he had consumed; he guessed over 20. Loud banging hammered on his door, and eventually in his head.

“Alright alright! Just stop banging on the fucking door!” Clint made his way to his door, not caring in the slightest that he was completely naked. He opened it wide, and in front of him stood a woman, bright red hair that burned like fire, and a scowl that could strike fear into an entire army. She glanced down, rolled her eyes, and folded her arms. Clint analysed her for a moment, and by her straight posture, neat suit, and holster on her hip, Clint took her to be his new protection. “You’re the new security, I take it?” Clint turned on his heels, leaving the door open and walking to his bedroom. He might as well put some pants on if she was

“I thought the president’s son would be a little more...decent than this,” She closed the door, locking the door, checking it several times before she turned to Clint, who had managed to get a pair of jeans from his bedside, and prepare to put them on lazily. Clint had to admit, her voice was sexy as hell, smooth like velvet and a gorgeous way of articulating words.

“The first thing you should know is that my name is Clint, I’m not just the presidents son. My dad is a dick, and for this relationship between you and I to work, you need to be on my side or we aren’t going to get along” Clint put his legs into his jeans, jumping up and down a couple of times so he fit inside without having underwear on. He had many rushed incidents that he wasn’t proud of. The security took a seat in his apartment, crossing her legs, and folding her arms as she sat.

“I’m fine with not getting along with you. I’m here to serve and protect, not to be your plaything” A smile tugged on her lip, but it collapsed once more.

“So you’ve heard about the other security detail I’ve had” Clint smirked, zipping up his jeans, finally readjusting himself. Clint sat as close to the security as he could, but as she shifted away, Clint groaned. Seducing this girl was going to be a challenge to say the least.

“Yes. And I’m not here for any of that. I’m here to-” Clint cut her off quickly.

“Serve and Protect, I get it” He groaned, and went to his kitchen.

“Please keep that in mind. I don’t want to see you naked at any other point during this ordeal” The girl stood from the spot, making sure he was in her sight.

“The feelings mutual, at this point” Clint churned some coffee, turning his hearing aid off so he didn’t get a headache from the machine. He gestured to the woman not to speaking, pointing to his ear and shaking his head. She nodded, and signed ‘O K’. She pointed to the coffee pot, and Clint looked over, noticing the coffee had finished brewing. He turned his hearing aid back on and picked up the pot to drink from. “Thanks. I always get a headache from this thing. Hearing aid is way too sensitive sometimes”

“It’s alright. You should probably invest in a new hearing aid” She chuckled lightly, and glanced around the apartment. He didn’t know what she was looking at. It was single floored apartment; dark wooden floorboards, simple furniture that matched the floors, it had no real space for large parties. Clint liked being close and personal with people. “For a 22 year old, you’re a lot neater than I thought you would be,” Natasha said, picking up seemingly dirty shirt from the back of the couch and tossing it to Clint. He grabbed it, smelling it to see if it was wearable. It was clean enough for Clint’s liking.

“You consider this neat?” He said, knowing he was putting on a dirty shirt.

“You haven’t seen other 22 year old’s apartments, have you?” She scoffed, and Clint narrowed his brow.

“How old are you? What is your name anyway?” He asked, coming around the counter, and facing the girl.

“22. I’m Agent Natasha Romanoff. But you must call me Agent Romanoff or Romanoff, never my first name, got that, Barton” She warned, folding her arms again. Clint smirked, raising his brow.

“Whoa. Dad wanted to make sure we never slept together, didn’t he? C’mon Romanoff, we got places to go, and a political career to destroy,” He took a sip from his coffee pot, and smiled again.

  



	2. Natasha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was on a roll, and basically wrote this over the course of this morning. I should be studying, but this is way too interesting. I don't know if the chapters will change every time but they'll be switching perspectives every couple or something. Hope you like it.

Clint was a handful to say the least. He was a like a kid who had just sugar and couldn’t sit still if his life depended on it. Natasha saw why the President wanted a security detail on him; he was going to get himself killed, sooner rather than later. When Clint had said he wanted to destroy a political career, she didn’t think he was serious. But the way Clint acted was deadly serious. He had been going around DC taking off items of clothing and jumping on random objects yelling ‘PARKOUR’. This job wasn’t what she expected at all.

She managed to get him down from a lamp post, still questioning how he got so high up, and had to forcibly put his shirt and shoes back on.

“Barton, I am your security, not your fucking babysitter,” She whispered, and he laughed loudly, throwing his head back.

“The name is Clint, and this is too much fun. I haven’t done parkour since Bobbi was around,” Clint stood upright after his shoe was put on, and started to jump around. He really was a small child. Natasha was wondering if she should refrain from giving him coffee.

“I can see why she quit,” She muttered. Natasha stood to her feet, folding her arms, and followed Clint with only walking. The jumping was slowing him down. She prayed he’d wear himself out.

“You know what we should do, Tash?”

“You know the rules, Barton. Only call me Romanoff”

“Fine. You know what we should do, Romanoff?”

“What, Barton?”

“We should fly to New York on Air Force One. I’m sure dad won’t mind” Clint stood in front of Natasha, smirking, and tested her. She looked around for any witnesses and smiled. She quickly spun him around, and pinned him against the nearest wall. The brick wall must have hated it, Natasha thought to herself. She took his left arm, taking it up, and twisting his wrist lightly. He groaned and the twisting caused him to raise on his toes, but still no escape.

“I’m going to say this once, and only once, Barton,” She warned, twisting his wrist, and his pleads made her smile, and took it as a sign he was listening. “I’m here to protect you. If you fuck up your life, and you mess up, I won’t be there to defend you. I will let you take the fall. I’m not like your other love sick security; I’m your worst fucking nightmare, and I’m here to do my job. So, stop fucking around, and this will be easy for the both of us” She let go of his wrist, backing away, and standing with her hands behind her back. Clint turned around, leaned against the brick wall and held his wrist.

“Whatever. But can you not do that again, my wrist is really important to what I do,” Clint’s brow narrowed.

“I didn’t think jerking off counted as a job,” Natasha remarked, a smirk appearing on her lips.

“Fuck you,” he yelled, and started to walk away. Natasha followed beside him. He groaned, throwing his head back. “Can you just leave, please?” He begged.

“No.” Natasha said simply, and Clint rolled his eyes.

“This was so much easier when I was fucking my security,” He muttered, still fiddling with his wrist.

“I bet it was, Barton,” She responded, and he looked down at her. His brow creased, but a small smile appeared on his face. It confused Natasha, she was being her cruel self, and yet this boy was smiling at her.

“Can we get lunch, or do I need to ask you to do that?” He asked sarcastically, but his smile was still there. It was odd, she felt as though they were becoming friends. But, it was very sudden. She just threatened him, and now he was being oddly charming.

“No, but where do you want to go? I don’t really like coffee houses for lunch,” She mocked, hoping he would get the hint.

“Coffee in the middle of the day? Holy shit no, I’d be up for hours. McDonalds for lunch. You won’t have to deal my shit if I’m exhausted,” Natasha felt a need to laugh. This kid was annoying as hell, and now he didn’t want to be a pain. How was he even a functioning human being?

“You read my mind. I really don’t want to deal with your shit,” Natasha smirked, and Clint opened the door to McDonalds for her. She rolled her eyes and kept the door open as he walked inside. People crowded around him, which Natasha had to block off. Clint seemed to ravish in the fame for a moment, but hid his face after a while, the crowds getting closer, pushing Natasha’s back against Clint’s right side.

“Hi everyone, can I just get my meal, please?” He asked politely, and pushed through the crowd, hooking his arm with Natasha’s and dragging her along with him. “You should probably shout next time. Bobbi and Jess did that and it always worked,” Clint said, taking his wallet from his back pocket.

“Yes, frightening the public is a great image to set,” Natasha whispered, and Clint scoffed slightly.

“Just tell me your order and keep them at bay” Natasha stood with her back to his, and stared down the entire restaurant.

 ***

They walked down the street, with the White House in full view. Clint remarked how he hated the whole political field. It ruined his parent’s marriage, and made him resent his father, though in the past he never did. He said that as soon as his father got into politics, he had no time for Clint, his Brother or his mother. Clint was 7 at the time when his father got into politics, and the hatred soon escalated after he turned 12 when his father didn’t know that he started to get into a new hobby if archery, and had won 1st place in a competition. He just resented the man for not caring.  

“You’re odd, Barton,” Natasha said before taking a bite of her burger, Clint, with a mouth full of food, looked at Natasha confused.

“Clint. But go on,” He corrected his name, spitting out a small amount of his food.

“I just threatened you outside, not 10 minutes ago, and now you’re enjoying my company?” She questioned him, and he nodded, understanding her confusion.

“I’m going to tell you a secret” Clint said, whipping the side of his mouth with the back of his hand. “My other security couldn’t put up with me either, so they slept with me to get themselves through it,” He smirked, and smiled brightly. Natasha chuckled, and then

“So, what you’re saying is, that if I sleep with you, you might actually be cooperative?” Clint nodded in response, making a pouty face in an attempt to mock her. “I think I’ll take my chances” Natasha laughed, and bumped her hip against his

“And that’s why I like you,” Clint admitted, laughing hard.

“What?” Natasha said with a mouth full of food. Admittedly, not her finest hour.

“You don’t take any of my bullshit, and you fight back. No one’s ever stood up to me like that since I’ve become the President’s son. Afraid I’ll run to daddy with all my problems” Clint rolled his eyes at the thought of it all. He hated being the President’s son, and it was clear that he would never like it.

“But you’re your own person, Barton. You’re not just the President’s son. And frankly, if you keep acting like an asshole, you’re gonna get punched in the face,” Natasha said offhand, hoping he would at least act offended. He was fun to play with. He was like a puppy with a bone but he wasn’t allowed to take a bite; it was entertaining to say the least.

“Is that a threat?” Clint’s brow was creased, but his playful smile proved otherwise.

“Will you run to daddy if it is?” Natasha said, raising an eyebrow and taking a bite of her burger.

“Shut up,” Clint crunched up his wrapper in his hand, and threw it to Natasha. She narrowed her brow, and Clint started to walk backwards, facing Natasha with a grimace gracing his lips. “I hope you know I’m not going to stop being a little shit. Not in my code, baby” He turned and raced down the street. Natasha groaned, throwing her unfinished lunch in the garbage along with Clint’s wrapper. She raced after him and thanked the lord her shoes were comfortable to run in.

“At least attempt to call me Natasha!” She shouted and was almost in pace with Clint.

 

***

 

“Was the piggyback really necessary?” Natasha asked, as Clint drooled over her shoulder. He had crashed around 7 that night. He had managed to stay active for 7 hours, and most of the time acting like a child and going on merry-go-rounds, playing in a petting zoo, and managing to buy a dog that was now tied to Natasha’s right wrist.

“Very necessary,” Clint said lazily. Natasha found it hard to keep him up, constantly readjusting him on her back. She was 5’7, and he was 6’3; it was difficult to say the least. “What should we call him?” Clint said as Natasha hitched him up again, almost waking him up.

“We?” Natasha questioned, groaning as she struggled with a dog pulling her around the corridor of Clint’s apartment block, and also carrying a boy twice her size.

“Well, you’re gonna be with me 24/7, so you should probably have a say in what we call it,” He said, making himself comfortable on her back. Natasha groaned, hitching Clint up again.

“I don’t know, the thing is pretty lucky to have an owner like you instead of where it used to be,” She remarked. The place that sold them the dog was a shit-show; the pets barely being fed and being yelled at if they weren’t quiet. She didn’t want to think of how they were punished, the poor things.

“We’ll call him Lucky,” Clint announced loudly, and Natasha rolled her eyes. She thanked God to have found his apartment. She reached inside Clint’s pocket, and he hummed lightly into her back as she did so. She shuddered as she found the whole ordeal disturbing. She knocked the door in as the keys unlocked the door, and placed him on the couch. He cuddled into a ball, and Lucky sat on top of Clint.

“I’ll be right next door if you find yourself in danger,” Natasha sighed, and Clint looked up, confused.

“What?” He asked, Lucky barking after he spoke, like he was questioning Natasha as well.

“I have to live next door to you now, apparently. See you tomorrow, neighbour!” Natasha smiled, and closed the door on Clint. She walked to the apartment next to Clint’s, unlocked the door and saw the empty apartment. It had nothing; it was bare, and Natasha prayed they gave her a bed. She walked into a room she guessed was the bedroom, and inside was a single bed with no sheets on it. She groaned loudly, and fell onto the bed.

“Couldn’t even ship over my fucking stuff!” She yelled, and turned over in her bed. A few moments later a knock came to her door, and Natasha groaned loudly. She got up from her bed and walked to the door. As she opened the door, Lucky pushed himself inside, and explored the apartment. Clint smiled and had a couple of things in his arms, a noticeable red shirt on top. He offered them forward and Natasha looked at him confused.

“Hey neighbour, thought you might want some blankets or a shirt you could use until your stuff comes. I’ll call dad now and make sure he gets your stuff here asap,” Natasha smiled, and took the blankets from Clint. He patted her shoulder and waved her goodnight. Lucky stayed to Clint’s side really well. It was a well trained dog, and it seemed to understand it was welcome in any home.


	3. Clint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might seem a little jumpy. I tried really hard to get this to you before my next exams started. It's kind of episodic, and times it might feel a bit rushed, so I apologise, but here it is. Hope you enjoy xx

“Lucky! C’mon boy, you ready for your walk?” Like if on queue, Natasha yelled through Clint’s apartment. She had been doing the same routine for the last 3 weeks; 7:30am start by walking Lucky, and everyone had to come, including Clint. He didn’t get up before at least 10:30 in the morning; Clint didn’t like her schedule.  
“Go away, I’m too hungover for your shit today,” Clint covered his head with his pillow and cursed into his bed. Natasha picked up the pillow and hit him with it repeatedly.  
“Get your lazy ass out of bed. Lucky is waiting,” Lucky barked, jumping on the bed.  
“You annoy the fuck out me,” Clint said into his mattress.  
“The feeling is mutual,” Natasha chuckled.  
“You were better when we first met. Which reminds me, I want my shirt back” Clint turned to Natasha, and she placed her hands on her hips. Clint creased his brow, looking at Natasha clearly for the first time in a while. She was perfect in Clint’s eyes, she had no flaws, and her beauty was endless. He could stare at her all day, and imagining her in his shirt wasn’t helping his infatuation with her.  
“In due time. It’s comfy, and frankly, I think you’d approve of me wearing it,” Natasha mocked. She started to kneel on his bed, and unwrapped his sheets from his body. She looked relieved to see him in boxers. She hit his side, and he groaned.  
“Let me see you in it, and I might agree,” Clint flirted, and Natasha rolled her eyes. She hit him again and he fell out of bed.  
“Get dressed,” She barked, and Lucky followed her.

  
***

  
Natasha didn’t walk, per say; she would speed-walk. She had no patience, like she always needed to run, but she had learnt from their first run with Lucky that Clint could barely keep up; especially when running for 4 miles. 4 miles every morning was torture, and Clint wondered how Natasha got through it without breaking a sweat. They kept walking with Lucky, and as they rested at a set of traffic lights, Clint noticed someone he hadn’t seen in a while.  
“Jess?” Clint asked, and Jess turned from the nearby coffee cart she was at. Her arm was linked with a man who looked to be some sort of body builder. She seemed almost irritated to see Clint; that was a worry. She greeted him with a hug, but soon returned to the side of the man.  
“You remember me telling you about my boyfriend?” Jess asked, and looked at Clint, as if to say ‘Please don’t start anything’.  
“Well, I do now” Clint said, trying to be polite, extending a hand out to the man. He didn’t take it, but rather gestured his head upward.  
“You the president’s son?” The boyfriend asked, Jess clung tighter to him, warning him to not ask questions.  
“Yeah, your girlfriend and I had fun together when she was my protection” Clint smirked, and knew he had said the wrong thing.  
“You trying to say something, boy?” he egged Clint on, and he felt it in his gut that he had to respond with the worst thing to say at that point. This man could squash him if he had the chance.  
“Nah, just see why you like her” Clint antagonised him, and he wasn’t sure why. Yep, Clint was dead.  
“Come here pipsqueak” Boyfriend yelled, forcing Lucky to bark loudly. Natasha stepped in front of Clint and the man’s face burned red in anger.  
“Back off, buffalo” Natasha warned, and the man clenched his fists. Jess pulled him away, and Natasha turned to Clint. “You have to piss off everyone you meet, don’t you?”  
“It’s a talent,” Clint let out a sigh of relief.

  
***

  
Clint rested on the couch, with a glass of water in his hand. He wanted to pour it over himself, but Natasha said that was stupid because he was sitting on his couch. He did have to admit, it was a pretty stupid idea. Lucky sat in his bed, not at all exhausted, and Clint wondered if Natasha and Lucky were robots. Natasha’s phone rang, and she excused herself outside. Lucky raised his head, tilting it, like he was confused.  
“What is it boy?” Clint asked, and Lucky kept tilting his head. Natasha re-entered the room, and smiled weakly. “What’s up?” He asked.  
“We have to go to a banquet tonight for your dad,” Natasha said, and Clint groaned loudly.  
“Do we have to?” He pleaded with Natasha.  
“Yes. I have to go and see him for the protocol for the evening, so you have a little time without me. Promise you won’t do anything stupid whilst I’m gone,” Natasha extended a hand to Clint, and he took it, shaking it in agreement.  
Clint spent most of the time inside, like he was told. He had gotten a few messages from Natasha telling him she would get his suit, and that she had a longer meeting with his dad than she expected. Then, he got a call from Jess, which he wasn’t expecting at all.  
“Jess. Hi,” Clint said, resting on the kitchen counter with the coffee pot in his hand.  
“Hey Clint, just wanted to see if you wanted to go out to a club tonight?” Jess said, with a plea behind her words.  
“I shouldn’t, but, for you, I’ll have a couple of drinks to catch up,” Clint said, rubbing the back of his neck.  
“Good, I’ll see you tonight,” Jess said before hanging up. He sighed, knowing Natasha would probably kill him when she found out.

***

  
At the club, Jess and Clint had met up, and started to drink. They caught up, and Jess told him that she resigned and told them everything. She apologised, but felt as though she couldn’t protect him if he was flirting with her constantly. Clint told her it was no problem, and felt like thanking her for it. He wanted to thank her for letting Natasha come into his life. He may not have liked her very much, but she was fun, she kept him fit, and actually made sure he was alright every time she was with him. The other’s never did that, they just made sure there was no one threatening him. With Natasha, she was threatening him to keep him safe. It was funny situation Clint found himself in.  
“C’mon, let’s dance!” Jess said, the music of the club getting louder. Jess pulled Clint to the dance floor, and Clint rolled his eyes. He was a guy; he didn’t know how to dance if his life depend on it. He basically just followed what all the other guys were doing; jumping up and down. It seemed to work for him. He kept this up, with Jess dancing next to him. Clint’s arm soon become a pain as it was pulled sideways. He was knocked out of the large crowd, and Natasha stood in front of him wearing a red business dress that stopped midthigh. She was ready for the banquet, and he could tell he was in trouble. But he was having way too much fun with what he was doing.  
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I’ve been tracking you all day! You think I couldn’t get to you?” Natasha yelled over the music. She kept pulling on his arm, but he took her hand, and she looked up at him confused.  
“Loosen up a little, Tash, I came out here to have fun with Jess. Now you’re here we can all have fun!” Clint’s hands roamed across Natasha’s hips, and he laughed, trying to get her to dance. Natasha pulled on Clint’s collar, and hit him square in the jaw. It felt like the entire club went silent as Clint hit the floor.  
“Get up you insufferable piece of shit! You have a political banquet to attend” Natasha said, taking his arm, and pulling him upward. Clint got to his knees, but pushed Natasha off of him.  
“I’m not going,” he may have been more drunk than he thought. He would normally go with Natasha, afraid of more punishment, but he refused. He wasn’t doing himself any favours.  
“I will drag you there by your fingernails if I have to, now get moving!” Her voice was strong, and warned him to do what she said.  
“You’re the biggest bitch I’ve ever met in my life,” He snarled at her. Natasha remained unmoved, and took the collar of his shirt, raising him to his feet finally, and looked at him straight in the eyes.  
“Get out of here, now!” She said slowly, and her words finally scared the sense into him.  
“Oi, Barton!” A voice yelled, and Clint turned to see Jess’ boyfriend. Clint cursed under his breath, and Natasha rolled her eyes, shaking her head. She was over this night.  
“You take a swing at him, you better try and get through me first” She yelled, her voice breaking as she yelled. She wasn’t holding back.  
“Gladly!” He swung his hand, narrowly missing Natasha, but she grabbed onto him, biting his forearm. He slapped her to the ground with his opposite hand, but she used it to her advantage, kicking his legs out from underneath him. He hit the floor hard, and Natasha jumped up from her back. She knelt in on his stomach, and he struggled to breathe. She held her forearm to his neck and got closer to him.  
“Touch him, and you’ll have hell breathing down your neck. Got that?” She warned, and stood from the man’s stomach. The club stood still, and Natasha took Clint’s collar like he was dog who just peed inside the house. He felt like that too.

  
***

  
Natasha didn’t take Clint to the banquet, but rather took him home and sat him at his couch. She took off her heels and walked into his kitchen, grabbing a bag of frozen peas from his freezer. She also took two beers from his fridge, and popped open both the caps. She walked back over to Clint and took the next next to him on the couch.  
“Take this. You’ll need it for your jaw” Natasha said handing over a bag of peas, and placing ones of the beers on the coffee table, leaving the other in her hand.  
“Sure you don’t need anything, your eye is pretty red,” Clint remarked, noticing her eye had become red from the slap.  
“I’ll be fine,” Natasha waved her hand, curling her legs up onto the couch. “I should apologise about punching you. I mean, you -” Natasha started, but Clint interrupted quickly.  
“Don’t apologise. You told me I would get punched. I was being an ass, and I really shouldn’t have touched you like that,” Clint said, shaking his head at how inappropriate he was being. Natasha smiled, and nodded.  
“Thanks for saying that. You should ask the next time you want to do that,” Natasha said, taking a sip from her beer. Clint scoffed and got the beer from the table.  
“I’m sorry for this night. It was stupid to even go out,” Clint admitted, and Natasha shrugged.  
“You can’t resist temptation. That’s clear,” Natasha scoffed.  
“Temptation?” Clint questioned, taking a sip of his drink.  
“I’m going to guess that whenever you see Bobbi or Jess, you’ll do anything they want. They’re everything you can’t have,” Natasha pointed out to Clint. He had never thought about it before, which was something  
“What about you then?” Clint asked.  
“You can’t have me. And you don’t want me. I’m a paradox,” Natasha raised her brow and laughed, taking a sip of her beer. “Rest up. Your dad has been messaging me all night. He wants us to meet him tomorrow morning, bright and early” Natasha stood from the couch, pinning up her hair, and picking up her shoes. She waved with the beer in hand, and left Clint feeling a whole range of things, but he couldn’t get her out of his head.

  
***

  
“You went out, got drunk, and refused to attend an important banquet for our family,” His father yelled, and had been doing so for the last hour with Natasha standing behind Clint.  
“It wasn’t important to me. It was important for your political agenda,” Clint argued back, the two leaning against the desk. They were matching each other in argument and in volume, and Clint wasn’t willing to back down now.  
“This was crucial for my position, Clint! How am I supposed to be reelected when I can’t keep my own son in check?” His father yelled, holding papers in an attempt to emphasise his point.  
“Sir, If I might interject?” Natasha interrupted, “Clint was my responsibility. Let the blame fall on me. If I had kept an eye on him like I was supposed to, he wouldn’t have gone out and gotten into the mess he was in” Natasha stood tall, her chin raised and attire perfect in appearance. His father slammed his hand down on his desk and he pointed at Natasha in anger.  
“Don’t get me start on you missy! You had one job and you can’t even get that right! I should fire you on the spot!” Clint couldn’t take the harshness that he was throwing at Natasha and stood in front of her again.  
“Dad! You can’t get mad at Agent Romanoff for trying her best. She’s the best agent you have that has put up with all my bullshit and tries her best to keep me in line. I can say she does a better job at it than you do,” His father took a step back in shock, and shook his head in frustration at the two.  
“Both of you, out of my office. Natasha, that is your first warning. You only have 3 chances here. Don’t let another get in the way of succeeding” He warned her, and they both left his office. Clint stopped outside the office door and looked at Natasha.  
“Natasha, I’m -” Clint turned to Natasha, but she didn’t turn to him. Her face was tight, and angry.  
“Don’t, Barton. Just…don’t” Natasha warned, staying still next to Clint, and not moving until he did. Clint sighed, and started to walk towards his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, chapter 4 might not be out for a while. Possibly the middle of this week, but don't be surprised if it isn't out this week. Sorry in advance xx


	4. Natasha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to come out. Took me a while to figure out the time line. I think they both got out of bed at like 3pm, god they're lazy. okay, now, back to the story. Hope you like it xx

Natasha yawned loudly, clicking her coffee machine on. She had been keeping an eye on Clint through a range of different people; Clint refused to answer his door to Natasha, and she felt it was better if she stayed away. Being so distant from Clint was unbearable, but he lived the next room over. She was told to keep a watchful eye on Clint, and technically had her week off for ‘recovery’ from being slapped at the club. But she felt like she had to keep an eye on him. And what better way than watching movies all day. She got changed into some yoga stuff, kind of comfortable, but a little tight. She hadn’t worn them in a while. She poured two mugs of coffee, hitching a couple of movies underneath her arm and walked out of her apartment. She picked up her purse, which had nothing more in it than a wallet, her phone and a small gun for protection inside. She considered wearing the red shirt Clint had lent her on her first night, but found it a bit ridiculous to do so. She elbowed the door a couple of times, and Clint answered the door, rubbing his eye in a sleepy state.

“You doing anything today?” Natasha asked, smiling and handing over her own form of peace offering. Clint took it, yawning, and narrowed his brow at Natasha.

“What are you doing here, Romanoff?” He seemed upset to see her, as if he was mad at her, but his tone was weariful, not angry.

“Movie day? I have the day off and have nothing better to do. You wanna…?” Natasha offered, showing a range of movies in her hand. Clint’s lip tugged upward, and he let his door open wider.

“If you have any political movies, I won’t be letting you in,” He laughed, and Natasha walked inside, shaking her head. She placed her purse down just near the door.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Natasha scoffed, and put down her coffee and spread the movies across the table. Clint swung the door shut and walked over slowly. He tilted his head over Natasha’s shoulder and pointed to a movie.

“Ah! That’s a political movie! ‘Olympus Has Fallen’!” He shouted in her ear. Natasha used her hand to cover up his obnoxious mouth, and turned to him.

“Oh c’mon, Barton, toughen up, it’s too ridiculous to be true anyway!” She punched his arm, and he held it for a moment, chuckling lightly. Natasha picked up the movie and took it to Clint’s DVD player. “Wanna point out the inaccuracy of them all?” She asked, and Clint’s brow creased before he smiled.

“Are you a mind reader now?” He laughed, and Natasha put the disk inside the machine.

“No, I just think these movies are stupid,” Natasha said, lounging on the couch, and Clint sitting next to her.

“Yeah, I don’t think one guy could take down an entire terrorist organisation single handedly,” Clint laughed, and Natasha shrugged. “Well, you could,” He sighed, and Natasha laughed. Natasha grabbed the remote before Clint had the chance, and he glared at her.

“I like being in control,” She reasoned, holding the remote close to her chest.

“Oh, that’s so obvious,” Clint muttered, “Popcorn?”

“Now who’s the mind reader?” Natasha smiled, and a chuckle came from Clint as he got up from the couch and moved into the kitchen.

 

***

“HE LITERALLY JUST STABBED HIM IN THE BRAIN!” Natasha exclaimed, eating another piece of popcorn, and Clint turned to her in shock. They had reached close to the end of the film, and she had to admit there were some pretty farfetched scenes shown, but the brain stabbing bit always made her cringe.

“You can choke someone with your thighs, and you wincing at this bullshit?” Clint motioned to the screen, confused by Natasha's response to the movie.

“But he just stabbed him...in the fucking brain. THE BRAIN, BARTON!” Natasha exaggerated, and Clint laughed. Lucky had been sleeping most of the day, making Clint’s bed his own for the time being, so Natasha hadn’t seen him for the entirety of the film.

“Can we not watch another political movie, they bore me,” Clint complained. Natasha groaned as she got up from the couch, rummaging through all the movies and picked one up.

“Ferris Bueller’s Day Off?” She asked, and Clint nodded quickly, a bright smile on his lips. Natasha felt a sudden surge in her chest. That smile could paralyse a person, and Natasha could feel it reeling her in. She understood how his other security personnel got so hooked.  

“Only if I’m allowed to recite the words,” Clint said, and Natasha finally came back to a reasonable train of thought. Clint stood and went to his fridge, sifting through it.

“Don’t be surprised if I end up singing along to this movie, probably one of my favourites,” Natasha responded, and Clint looked up from the top of the fridge door.

“You sing?” He asked, returning slowly to the fridge.

“By sing, I mean shout incoherently and try to stay on key,” She smirked, and she could hear a chuckle from Clint behind the fridge door. Clint returned from the fridge holding two bottles of beer in his hand.

“It’s a movie day, we might as well,” He reasoned, and Natasha combed back hair, a smile spreading onto her face.

“Order pizza for our early dinner,” Natasha shoved Clint’s shoulder.

***

“NOW SHAKE IT UP BABY!” Natasha yelled loudly, jumping up and down on Clint’s old couch, that really shouldn’t be jumped on. Clint jumped opposite to her, who had managed to fall of the couch more times than she had seen a human fall off a couch. The pizza had gone cold, and Lucky had come across and had eaten most of it, only a few slices remaining on the coffee table.

“SHAKE IT UP BABY!” Clint responded, a sparkle in his eyes as he watched her. He bit his lip, resting on the arm of the chair, like an attempt to not to fall off the couch again.

“TWIST AND SHOUT!” Natasha leaned down to yell-sing at Clint. He let his head fall back and he let out a hefty laugh.

“You are not what I expected, Tasha,” Clint exclaimed, holding his stomach in laughter. Natasha jumped into a sitting position on the couch. She tried to find a comfortable position, but her pants were irritating her than what she let on.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She questioned, looking at Clint confused.

“You’re funny, and you’re crazy in all sense of the word, and caring,” He smiled at her, his cheeks burning a light shade of pink. Natasha chuckled, biting her lip. She combed a hand through her hair and sat crossed legged on the couch. She leaned forward with a brow raised in questioning.

“What did you think I was? Some sort of robot who couldn’t feel anything, or express anything?” Her eyes fluttered slightly, a reaction that was becoming more frequent in the presence of Clint.

“Well, you give that impression,” He muttered, looking upward from his hands, and Natasha could have sworn he looked like a puppy pleading for something from her. Natasha shifted in her seat, and looked up at Clint.

“Not in front of my friends,” Natasha smiled, looking down at her own hands. She shifted again, and Clint sat on the couch, close to Natasha.

“You are fidgeting a lot,” Clint remarked, his tone back to normal, and not its state of flirtation.

“These damn yoga pants aren’t as comfortable as the day I bought them,” Natasha laughed, trying to play off not being as flustered as she was getting.

“Go home and get comfy, I’ll put the next one on. Footloose?” Clint asked, as Natasha stood up from the couch. Natasha nodded, and started to move towards the door.

“If you mock me on what I come back in, I’ll hurt you,” Natasha said, turned back to Clint for a moment, who was smirking.

“Trust me, I know how seriously to take your threats now,” Natasha saw Clint bite his lip before she turned and closed the door. Natasha rummaged through her clothes, trying to find something comfortable, but then a thought came to mind. She found what she wanted, and changed quickly. She tip-toed back into Clint’s apartment, her hair falling on her shoulders.

“I’m back!” Natasha announced, fiddling with the handle of Clint’s door. Clint looked up from his beer bottle as he rested on the breakfast bench, and he blinked rapidly for a few moments. He dribbled some beer onto his shirt, and he cleaned himself off quickly, training to regain any composure he had left.

“Is that my shirt?” Clint asked, as Natasha entered his apartment. Natasha giggled, nodding in the process. She pulled the red shirt of Clint’s down slightly, only just covering her grey pajama shorts. She jumped on the couch and took the bowl of popcorn from the table. She waited for Clint to sit next to her, and he smiled widely looking at her in his shirt. “I have to admit, you look killer in red,” Clint exclaimed. Natasha laughed, biting her lip. Clint sat next to Natasha, but closer to Natasha than the last time they sat together.

“Do you want it back?” Natasha’s eyelashes fluttered, though she never intended to do so. Her cheeks burned, and she realised she was flirting with Clint, and had no intention of stopping. What was wrong with her?

“I guess I can wait,” Clint said, shifting closer to Natasha on the couch. His voice was low, and waited for Natasha, tempting her to ask. He kept staring at her lips, and Natasha could feel her heart beat faster in her chest.

“Until what?” Natasha asked. Clint fiddled with the bottom of the shirt, and he looked up at Natasha again. Her hand found its way to the back of Clint’s hair; it was much softer than she thought it would be. Clint started to lean in, his breath touching her skin.

“Until I can take it off you,” Clint said, his lips skimming hers. Natasha waited, hoping Clint would finally press his lips against hers; she couldn’t make the first move, she couldn’t do that with her job at stake. But before he could do so, a hammering at his door separated the two of them. Natasha ushered Clint into his room, and Natasha rummaged through her purse. She pulled out a gun, and held it tightly in her hand. She peaked through the eyepiece, and looked back at Clint. She waved him down, saying to get further into his room. She put the gun behind her back, and opened the door, smiling innocently.

“Hi, can I help you?” She said to the bodybuilder. He looked at her, like he knew her but he didn’t remember where from.

“Doesn’t Clint Barton live here?” He asked peering inside the apartment. Natasha fluttered her eyes.

“Nope. Just me in my shirt. Clint Barton hasn’t lived here in months. Lives with his dad now I think. It’s all over the newspapers,” Natasha gave her best girly voice, the boy went red in the face. “Is that his bat? I’m sure he would love it back,” Natasha gestured to the large metal baseball bat in the man’s hand, and he got flustered once more.

“Uh, yeah, need to give this to him, sorry for bothering you,” The man took another look inside the apartment, and smiled at Natasha. Natasha shut and locked the door quickly. Clint emerged from his room, combing a hand through his hair.

“Never heard you talk like that before,” Clint said, rubbing the back of his neck. Natasha smiled slightly, but the only thing she could keep thinking about was the fact that she needed to keep Clint safe. She was being distracted by him, and it was getting in the way of her job.

“Don’t expect to hear it again,” She muttered, though her cheeks were burning.

“Jut going to say that it was really cute,” Clint said, still standing near his door, though he looked like he wanted to move towards Natasha.

“Stop flirting, Barton. Get to bed, I’ll stay here until I think it’s safe,” She cleared her throat, and remained calm, trying to not get enticed by him. He stepped back, and Lucky came to Clint’s side. Clint patted Lucky’s head and turned inside his room, closing the door.

Natasha stayed on the couch, Footloose coming to an end as she rested her on the couch cushion.

***

“Natasha?” She heard Clint’s voice ask. Her eyes widened, and Clint was laid next to her in his bed. She had his sheet wrapped around her figure, and only a small portion of that covered Clint’s lower body.

“Sorry,” Natasha started, shifting closer to Clint. His hand graced her curves, and pulled her into his embrace. “I must have fallen asleep.” She said, her hand touching Clint’s shoulder.

“It’s alright. I just love watching you sleep,” He said, his words flirting with her, and tempting her to respond quickly.

“Oh do you now? What else do you love?” She asked, a smirk tugging on her lips. Clint leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers, and his hands moving down her back. She smiled as his lips moved against hers, his hands progressively getting lower. Natasha rolled Clint on his back, moved her legs over him and sat on his lap. Clint groaned as Natasha’s hips moved against his, teasing him, feeling him grow harder against her back. She kissed his neck, tugging on his hair, and his fingers digging into her back.

“Natasha, God,” He muttered, trying to breathe, but he couldn’t stay focused. She sat up again, guiding him inside her. She lost her breath as she sat down, and Clint’s hands found her hips. She rocked against him, and Clint threw his head back, growing in frustration. He sat up, starting to quicken his pace. His lips met her collarbones and her chest. Natasha held onto Clint, falling into him as he took control. He was fast and gave everything to her, not taking a moment without giving her some sort of pleasure. Natasha’s eyes closed as she decided to rock against him again, and she could feel herself losing control and giving everything back to Clint.

 

***

Natasha woke with Lucky licking her hand. Her whole body was burning, and burning for one person. Clint. She groaned and rolled over on the couch. _Why did this have to happen to her?_


	5. Clint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a quick update, I have to say, but no more chapters for a bit. You might get some over the weekend, but I'm not sure. I have school stuff to deal with (exams, final projects, stuff like that) so I'm gonna concentrate on those and we might get some more chapters if I have the time. Sorry in advance if they don't come for a while. I hope you like this chapter though. Have fun xx

“Hey Clint” A voice tempted him to open his eyes. Natasha was in front of his eyes, her hair seemingly glowing as she sat on his lap.

“Did you just call me Clint?” He asked, trying to sit up, but Natasha forced him down again. She wore his red shirt, but it was adjusted to tied up, showing off her toned stomach, and black lacy underwear. Clint nearly lost his breath just looking at her.

“What else would I call you, silly?” She said, in her cute voice she used on the bodybuilder at his door. She drummed her nails on Clint’s chest, circling them around, touching his jaw. She was so tempting on top of him, and all he wanted to do was fuck her, like really fuck her. But something was off about the way she acted, and the way she spoke.

“You just don’t call me Clint,” Clint said, his brow narrowing. Natasha leaned down, her lips and tongue touching his neck, and Clint had to stifle a groan to stop him from taking control and having her right there and then.

“Do you want your shirt back?” Natasha whispered into Clint’s neck. Clint gripped Natasha’s shoulders, turned her on her back, and Clint on top of her. Natasha giggled, using her legs to push Clint down onto her. Clint picked up from the bed on his elbows, he looked down at Natasha, moving some hair out of her face.

“But...you aren’t Natasha,” He sighed, and Natasha looked at him confused.

“Of course I am, look at me!” She exclaimed, biting her lip and trying to pull Clint down to her again.

“You aren’t Natasha. You may look like Natasha but you don’t sound or act like her,” Clint said, sitting on his heels. Natasha got up, moving her hands around Clint’s neck, pulling his hips against hers.

“But don’t you want her to act like this?” She said, biting her lip, then she pressed her lips softly against his. Clint pulled away, and looked at Natasha with a crease in his brow.

“No. I like Natasha the way she is. She’s perfect,” Clint admitted, and Natasha smiled, nodding slowly.

***

 

Clint’s eyes sprung open, clinging to his sheets and desperate to understand what just happened. Lucky barked from the door, his tail wagging and Clint sat up, scratching the back of his head. He checked underneath his sheets and was thankful he didn’t have a boner, because he was sure he would have one from that sort of dream; especially about Natasha.

“Lucky, don’t wake him,” He heard Natasha’s voice whisper, and Clint’s mouth went dry. She was still in his apartment? _Why was she still in his apartment?_

“It’s okay, I’m awake,” Clint’s voice broke as he spoke. God that was embarrassing. Natasha’s hand came into view from the door frame holding a mug.

“Coffee?” She asked, finally peeking her head around the corner, Clint getting slightly worried that seeing her would spark something in his pants. He clutched onto his duvet, and Natasha laughed lightly. “C’mon, it’s 10. I let you sleep in today and took Lucky on his walk. He didn’t get one yesterday,” Natasha explained. She seemed to notice that Clint was uncomfortable and came into his room. She wasn’t wearing his shirt, in fact, she was wearing her full suit that all security members wore, with the american flag pin on the collar of their blazer, and her hair pinned up in a ponytail. “We have to go see your dad, he has some sort conference he wants you at in a few days and wants to make sure you come,” Natasha said looking at her watch. Lucky jumped on the bed, and rubbed himself against Clint’s chest.

“I thought you had the week off?” Clint asked, Lucky licking his face. Natasha shook her head, handing over Clint the mug.

“I was supposed to, but it doesn’t feel right leaving you all defenceless and everything,” She explained, and began rummaging through Clint’s dresser drawers. She threw him a clean pair of boxers, and Clint stared at her for a moment. She wasn’t like his dream at all.

“I’m not defenceless,” He said as a shirt was thrown at his face.

“Can you hold a gun?” She asked throwing over a belt. It hit Clint’s stomach, and he grunted as the cold metal hit his skin.

“I can do better than that,” He said, as Natasha walked over with a pair of pants.

“What does that mean?” She asked, putting the pants on his head. He parted the pant legs and saw Natasha walking out of the room. _God, she had amazing hips_.

“C’mon, let me take you somewhere fun for once, then I can show you what I mean,” He smirked, jumping out of bed.

“As long as your life isn’t at risk,” Natasha chuckled, throwing a hand up to gesture ‘5 minutes until she left without him’.

 

***

“This is definitely not what I had in mind,” Natasha said getting out of his car, and Clint smiled, racing to the trunk of his car to pick out some items. Clint had taken her to a shooting range, but not just any shooting range, it was for archery. Clint got his bow and quiver, placing them over his shoulder, and moving behind Natasha, touching her back and forcing her to move forward.

“I loved archery when I was a kid, and I still do, so I come out here and shoot. Dad never liked me doing it, said it was stupid, but I still kept at it” Clint explained as they walked towards Clint’s usual spot. He liked having his own space to work, and this spot was just perfect for him. He began to set up as Natasha sat down behind him; she seemed uncomfortable with all the other archers around. Clint fired two arrows, both hitting the bullseye, and Clint smiled to himself. He turned to Natasha who was slowly clapping, but she didn’t seem comfortable at all. “C’mon, I’ll show you how to do it,” Clint gestured, extending a hand to her. She reluctantly took it, and Clint guided her to the spot. He gave her the bow with an arrow, and she was trying to figure out how to position the arrow on the bow. Clint saw her legs, positioned how she would fire a gun, and he shook his head. He touched her hips, straightening her to be side-on, and Natasha stared at him in shock.

“Wh-What are you doing?” She asked, lowering the bow, and Clint picked it up before she fired it into his face.

“Showing you how to position yourself right, wait, let me help,” He said, standing up and moving behind her. He kicked her boots, telling her to move them further apart, and fixed up her shoulders and elbows. “Lower your elbow. You are way too rigid, loosen up, Tash,” he said tapping her elbow pulling the arrow.

“You need to learn personal space, Mr Barton” Natasha raised a brow and turned to Clint. Clint smiled wider, and gave a chesty laugh.  

“I wasn’t taught to be distant,” He admitted, and tried to lower her arm elbow again before she started to talk.

“Barton-” Natasha rolled her eyes, before Clint interrupted.

“Clint” He corrected, and she chuckled at him.

“Clint” It was the first time Natasha had used his name, and the way her voice spoke his name, it was like hearing the song of angels. Clint was falling hard for his girl, and he couldn’t do a thing to stop it, or even do anything about his feelings at all. “Why are you being so nice to me now? Do you think you can get anywhere with me?” Clint was snapped back into the reality, and he let out a heavy sigh before speaking.

“I’ve struck out too many times with you. I know I’m beaten. Doesn’t mean I can’t still like hanging out with you. And I like hanging out with you. A lot,” Natasha seemed to let out a light sigh, and began to move her lips closer to Clint’s. Clint could have sworn he was dreaming, but before he could feel her lips meet his, Natasha’s grip on the arrow loosened, and the arrow shot out onto the target. It hit the bullseye, and Natasha and Clint were both in a state of confusion and shock. “See, there you go! Perfect shot,” Clint cleared his throat, stepping away from Natasha. He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have brought her here at all. It was a mistake. “We should go now. This was fun but Dad will probably want you and I at the house later on,” He raced over to the bullseye, forcing the rest of the archers to stop, pulled out his arrows, and raced back to Natasha, packing up all his things.

“We only just got here,” Natasha said in disbelief, still holding the bow in her hand. Clint took it off of her, and sighed.

“I think that’s enough practice for now,” Clint’s voice was low. He picked up his gear and couldn’t wait for Natasha. She kept up though, her brow creasing at him.

“You’re annoying, Barton,” She cursed.

“So I’ve been told,” He muttered, throwing his quiver and bow into the back seat of his car, and sat in silence as they drove to the white house.

 

***

“Clint Barton, in my office, now!” He father yelled as Clint and Natasha were about to wait. They both stood, but Natasha was stopped at the door. “Alone, Miss Romanoff,” His father snarled, and Natasha and Clint both looked at each other in confusion.

“Dad, I’m sorry about last time, but I swear I’ll come to the conference thing,” Clint said, taking a seat in front of his dad’s desk.

“It’s not about that Clint,” His father barked, and Clint adjusted himself in his chair. “What did I say about sleeping with your security team, Clint!” His dad yelled, throwing his arm and hitting everything that lay in its wake.

“Whoa! I haven’t slept with Natasha. She’s made it clear that she isn’t interested in me. Why are you getting so worked up about this? Where is this coming from?” Clint asked, remaining in his seat, trying not to anger his dad.

“Today Clint! The photos are everywhere!” His dad threw him a magazine, with the headline that read ‘The Son And The Security, Presidents son taking use of his secret service protection in more ways than one’. There were a number of photos of them both at the shooting range. And then, there was a larger photo of Natasha and Clint almost kissing. Clint had realised how close they had actually been.

“Nothings happening between us. She hates me! She’s even said so. If I was to get shot at, she’d probably let me take the bullet!” Clint lied. He knew Natasha too well, she would never do that in a million years. Her job was too important to jeopardise.

“I don’t want you to defend her, this was what it was like with Jess. She said you two were over, but I knew otherwise,” His father voice bellowed, and Clint stood abruptly from his chair. He stood face to face with his father, and was prepared to yell until his point was clear.

“This isn’t like Jess at all! Natasha has so much potential, and she’s a great bodyguard, if not the best, security detail I’ve ever had, and that’s saying a lot because I’ve slept with the other lot,” Clint yelled at his dad. He was finished yelling about this, turning from his dad and watching the floor as he walked out the room. “Dad, listen to me, Natasha and I aren’t a thing. I want to be with her, I do, but there is nothing happening between us,” Clint stopped in his tracks, noticing the door open and someone standing at it silently. Clint mustn’t have noticed when he was looking at the photos, but Natasha stood at the door, her hands behind her back, her eyes to the floor. He cleared his throat, and Natasha’s gaze straightened upward. He kept walking, but as he was about to leave, he looked at Natasha, stopping as she looked up at him. Clint gave a smile, extending a hand to Natasha. She was going to take it when his father cleared his throat.

“Natasha, come in,” His dad barked, and Natasha lowered her hand and strided into the room with confidence. Clint was sure that the was the last time he was going to see her, and watched her with care, making sure not to miss a single thing. The way she walked, the way her hips moved, her perfect height, and her shining bright red hair. She turned to him, like she was doing the same thing he was, and she smiled one last time at him. He gave a weak smile before closing the door, and exiting the building with nothing more than a single security member of the white house.

 

 


	6. Clint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS TOOK WAY TOO LONG TO WRITE. Okay, so yes, it's a largely smut based chapter, hence why it took so long. I am a writer so get embarrassed by writing the word 'cock'. I am pathetic, yes. I think that is clearly established. But yeah, tried to write good smut for you all, hope you enjoy. Chapter 7 will probably be uploaded sooner than what this chapter is, and I hope you all didn't mind waiting so long for this chapter. okay, now read and enjoy! xx

Clint collapsed into the couch, sipping on a beer that had lost its cooling sensation, but left the right amount of sting in his throat. He watched a couple of movies, not particularly interesting, and the accuracy of the presidential films like ‘Olympus Has Fallen’ and ‘White House Down’ were completely off. He missed Natasha, which was an odd feeling to have, because he did see her less than 2 hours before, but he wasn’t going to see her again because he couldn’t keep it in his pants. Technically they didn’t even do anything, but still, Clint’s dick would be to blame. He was going to watch Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, but it reminded him of her, and it was exhausting just watching Olympus Has Fallen without her. He was in too deep with his emotions for her. She was his security for Christ sake, what was he thinking. All this other security were a way of distraction; they were hot, but he didn’t know much about them. He felt bad about it, but they always left before he had the chance. An irritating knock hammered at the door, barely stopping to rest their hand.

“Keep your shirt on, I’m coming!” Clint said, knocking over the beer bottle on his coffee table. He swore to himself and stumbled over to the door, with the bottom of his jeans covered in warm beer. He shook his leg as he opened the door, not noticing who was actually standing in front of him. He looked up, and saw Natasha standing with her hair down, and a smile on her lips. Clint could have sworn his heart stopped as her saw her. She wasn’t in her usual security suit, but rather a skin tight black dress, a red belt tied around her waist, drinking in her entire figure. “Wh-what are you doing here?” Clint stuttered. Natasha didn’t answer, but rather reached her hand to Clint’s cheek, and forcing him down to her. And then, her lips locked with his, and she fell straight into his chest with ease. Clint wrapped his arms around Natasha, picking her off of toes. Her hands tugged on the back of Clint’s hair, forcing Clint to stumble inside his apartment. She kicked his door shut, and pushed Clint further into his apartment. He fell onto his couch, taking Natasha with him. She giggled as she fell on top of him, and Clint smiled at her; her hair hung in front of her face, it almost looked like flames engulfed her. He was mesmerised by her.

“What are you staring at?” Natasha chuckled, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” Clint said, sighing in awe. Natasha smiled, before leaning down and pressing her lips to Clint’s. They were soft, and sweet, like fairy floss or something.

Clint sat up, pulling his legs down from the armrest, and pulling Natasha into his lap. She let out a sigh as she kissed him harder. Clint held Natasha closer to him, and it was clear that Natasha was eager for more than just a kiss.

“Clint,” She said breathlessly, as Clint’s lips trailed down her jaw and neck. Her fingers gripped into his hair. Clint rolled up Natasha’s dress, bringing it up past her waist and gathered around the belt. Natasha’s eyes were closed, waiting for Clint to give her something, but as Clint stared at Natasha’s gorgeous face, her eyes opened in confusion.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I won’t hold it against you,” Clint said, his hands resting on her hips. Natasha lent down, pulling on Clint’s collar. His body was pressed hard against Natasha’s, and Clint could feel himself growing hard, and apparently so could Natasha as she rolled her hips against Clint.

“But I want you against me,” She whispered into his ear, and Clint couldn’t stand it. He held underneath Natasha backside, and holding her back in place. Clint stood, and Natasha giggled against his lips in shock. He took them to his room, kicking the door shut behind, making sure Lucky couldn’t get inside at any time. He sat Natasha down on the bed, and began to crawl on top of her as she backed further onto the bed. Natasha took the bottom of Clint’s shirt, tearing over his head, and then fiddling with his belt. Clint wasted no time in taking the belt from Natasha’s waist and pulling her dress over her head. Black lacy underwear curved around Natasha’s body, and Clint bit his lip.

“Dreams do not compare to the sight I see in front of me,” He muttered, placing kisses down Natasha’s neck and chest.

“You dream of me?” She said, her eyes shutting tightly, and clenching the sheets beneath her. She was craving Clint as much as he craved her.

“By the way you close your eyes when I touch you, I figure you dream of me too,” He smirked against her skin, trailing down further. He hooked his finger around the underwear that kept his face from her sex. She was already wet, just waiting for Clint to do do something. He pulled her underwear down her incredible legs, and he started to kiss up her thigh. Natasha arched her back, her hips raised, urging Clint to stop wasting time. He gripped onto her hips, pushing them back down onto the bed, and Natasha whined in frustration. Clint smiled against her thighs, circling his tongue around, teasing her. He finally touched her clit with his tongue, and Natasha moaned in appreciation.

“Clint,” Natasha squeaked out, her hands tugging on his hair. He closed his mouth around her clit, using two fingers to aid to his attempt of making her come. Natasha almost seemed to purr with pleasure, with gasps erupting from her mouth as Clint’s tongue ran across her folds. He sat up, taking his fingers out and sucking on them, mocking Natasha that she wasn’t able to come just yet. “Please don’t stop,” She whined, and Clint smirked, moving up and finally removing his pants. His hand skimmed down her thighs again as he drummed lightly onto her. Natasha bit her lip, turning her face into the pillow in an attempt to stop whining. She was being driven mad by Clint, and he relished in it.

“I can’t let you have all the fun, can I?” Clint mocked, slowing down the drumming, and Natasha groaned. She sat up, taking hold of Clint’s shoulders, and tossing him to the bed. She got on top of Clint, placing a hand on his chest, forcing him to stay down. She leant over him, and Clint swallowed hard looking at Natasha’s chest, the lace black bra still pushing her breasts up.  She leant down further over him, rummaging through his bedside table drawer. Natasha picked up a condom wrapper, tearing the edge with her teeth. She sat back onto Clint’s thighs, and rolled the condom on slowly. She crawled up Clint’s chest slowly, grinning, with her eyes full of desire.

“Teasing me isn’t a good idea, Clint Barton,” She tried to threaten, but her demeanor was full of need of satisfaction. Clint could do that much for her.  

“What will you do about it?” Clint responded, and Natasha bit her lip before she kissed him again. Her hand touched his shaft, guiding it inside her. Natasha lost her breath almost instantly and had to steady herself on Clint’s chest. Her lips parted with Clint’s as she rocked her hips against his. She caught her hand in her hair, fisting it as she picked up her pace. Clint’s hands rested on Natasha’s hips, helping her give her full satisfaction. Clint wasn’t concentrating on himself, he was just in love with looking at Natasha as she rode on top of him. He sat up, hooking his arms around her back, and unclipping her bra with ease. He flung it to one area of his room which he wasn’t too concentrated on at that point, he was more distracted by the way in which Natasha was breathing in his ear and her nails dragged across his back. Clint’s head fell into Natasha’s chest as everything that was happening was intoxicating. Clint started to kiss Natasha’s chest as she rotated her hips against his, which added to all of Clint’s excitement. Clint’s mouth finally caught onto one of Natasha’s breast, and he used his tongue, circling her nipple. Natasha’s purring was rocking through her chest into Clint’s, and Clint could feel Natasha’s muscles clamp around Clint, telling Clint she was about to come. Natasha held onto Clint’s shoulders, throwing her head back in an attempt to catch her breath. Clint took her cheeks, forcing her to look at him when she came, and she got what he was doing. She began to breath heavier, and she squeaked as she reached her climax, clenching a fist into Clint’s hair. Clint came soon after, her muscles contracting around him drove him over the edge, and Clint looked into Natasha’s eyes as she rode down the climax. Clint’s face went into Natasha’s shoulder, and he kissed her collarbones in just a pure state of ecstasy.

 

***

“Clint,” Natasha said, her finger circling on Clint’s chest. Natasha had a sheet wrapped around her, Clint only managing to get a small portion of the thin material. “When did I ever say I hated you?” Natasha smirked, and Clint looked her confused.

“What?” He asked. Natasha laughed, sitting up on her elbows.

“You said to your dad that I hated you, and that there was nothing between us. I would count that as something,” She smirked, and Clint laughed, moving hair out of Natasha’s face. Clint rolled over to face her, and Natasha inched closer to him.

“You are the hardest person to read,” Clint finally said, and Natasha shrugged, pulling the biggest smile on her face.

“I think it’s a specialty,” She flirted, and Clint tackled her, showering her with kisses that all tasted like fairy floss and raspberry, something he hadn’t noticed on Natasha’s skin until it lingered on his lips.

Natasha had pulled Clint’s arms around her, falling asleep in the warm embrace his chest and arms provided for her. Clint fell asleep sooner after Natasha, but he just loved the feeling of Natasha in bed, the weight she pressed into his skin, and the way her hair didn’t stop burning when there was no light to hit it. There was no denying it now. Clint Barton was head over heels in love with Natasha Romanoff.

***

Clint’s eyes lazily opened the next morning, though he didn’t feel Natasha against his chest, he was almost in a panic as his eyes darted open to search for Natasha. She smiled at him though, staring at him just a little further away from his chest.

“You talk in your sleep,” Natasha laughed, and stroked Clint’s cheek.

“Oh, God, what did I say?” He asked, and Natasha finally shifted closer to Clint.

“You have a mouth like a sailor, sir,” She said, then leant to his ear, “But you sure do dream about me a lot,” She whispered, kissing him with a smirk remaining on her lips. Clint scoffed, and pressed a hand to his forehead.

“I have to get new security today don’t I?” He groaned, rolling over to stare at his ceiling.

“Why would you think that?” Natasha asked, leaning on his chest.

“Because of yesterday…?” He said looking at her, a creasing deeping on his brow.

“Your dad didn’t fire me, he’s just given me another warning. ‘Another will be the loss of a career. Don’t become intimate with my son, and that will be easy for you, Miss Romanoff’” Natasha mocked Clint’s father, and he smiled at her.

“So you managed to stay my security, as long as we don’t actually become intimate?” Clint asked, and Natasha nodded. “Well, you’ve lost your job,” Clint scoffed, feeling a sense of guilt rise in his throat.

“How are they to prove anything if we don’t show it?” Natasha asked, and Clint looked at her surprised, a devilish smile growing on his lips.

“So, we act like we’re not going out,” He said, piecing together Natasha’s plan.

“Maybe even possibly hate each other?” Natasha suggested, drumming her fingers on his chest.

“And really we’re dating behind the scenes?” Clint asked, and Natasha nodded, her cheeks brightening in a light pink colour.

“I think that’s a reasonable arrangement. We both get what we want,” She said, her eyelashes fluttering that always made Clint’s heart skip a beat.

“Good sex and an awesome relationship that nobody knows about,” Clint said looking up at the ceiling again. But, Natasha punched Clint’s stomach, and he grunted loudly.

“Excuse you,” She scolded, sitting on him, and Clint laughed at how upset she was. “That was great sex,” she said poking his chest. Clint sat up abruptly, pulling Natasha further into him with her upper thighs.

“Prove me otherwise,” He whispered, kissing along her neck. Natasha fisted a handful of Clint’s hair, pulling his head back. He smiled wickedly at her, and she shook her head.

“Oh I plan to, Barton,” She threatened, but a smile was printed on her lips.

“I love it when you boss me around,” He said, and she laughed as Clint turned her over in the bed, kissing along her chest. And lower. And Lower…  


	7. Natasha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY IMPORTANT INFORMATION! i love you guys for reading! You are all awesome. But seriously, the end note is for reference for some things within the story. If you can't imagine something, it's right at the bottom. I struggled with this chapter, and the next chapter WILL be better, I promise. But yeah, here you go. xx

“Go fuck yourself, Romanoff!” Clint yelled, walking into his dad’s office. “I never get to do anything fun anymore, you fucking bitch!” He said, sulking into his chair. Natasha stood upright behind him, a smirk on her face. Clint’s father smiled at them, thankful they weren’t getting along. It was all an act, of course. In reality, Natasha and Clint had sex that morning, and had been making out whenever no one was watching. They had stayed a secret for several weeks, no one noticing the two at all, mainly just the fact that Clint seemed to get more and more annoyed at Natasha as the weeks pressed on.

“Sorry, sir, your son is having a tantrum for not being able to go to the gym today,”

“Well, you know, he was quite a gymnast growing up,” His father announced, and Natasha had to bite her lip to stop from laughing.

“Not that kind of gym, dad,” Clint barked, seemingly annoyed that Natasha now knew information about Clint that he didn’t want getting out. She was definitely going to use it against him. “Why am I here dad?” Clint said, folding his arms in annoyance. Clint had gotten the call in the middle of getting a blowjob that morning, so he was pretty annoyed to say the least.

It wasn’t to say that the two only had sex. In fact, they spent most of their time in Clint’s apartment, sitting lazily as they watched movies and talked about stuff they didn’t know about each other. Natasha had learnt that Clint had an older brother that he rarely saw anymore as he was off in New York, and felt closer to his mother than he did to his father. Clint eventually got on the topic of Natasha and her family, which wasn’t a particular subject she liked discussing lightly, so it brought down the mood quite a bit. She was taken away from her parents, explaining green cards and the issue with them to Clint. Natasha always kept in contact with them though, saying that she got her citizenship to help them come back to America one day, but they did love their home in Russia. She told Clint that she missed her family, and Clint would hold Natasha just like she needed; in a loving and protective way. She always felt her most vulnerable when talking about her past, but Clint made it so easy. It was almost worrying how comfortable Clint made everything for Natasha. He knew how to treat her in the right circumstances, how to avoid stepping into places he shouldn’t, and when to say the right thing. He was knowing her better than she knew herself. And that was frightening.

“There’s an important gala we must attend tomorrow evening. As a family. Your brother is attending as well. He says he’s excited to see you,” His father said, taking a seat in his chair and looked at papers on his desk.

“Well, the night will be less horrible with him around,” Clint smiled, and his father sighed heavily. He looked up from his papers and rolled his eyes at his son.

“And if you must, you can bring a date,” His father smirked. Clint shuffled in his chair uncomfortably, his father noticing soon after. “What is it? Is there something you’re not telling me?” Natasha prayed that Clint was a good liar. Clint leant forward, faking a whisper.

“I was just thinking that _she_ will be there, she’ll ruin the whole night if I bring a date,” Clint said, referring to Natasha. He was trying to get out of bringing a date, and his father didn’t understand why.

“Nonsense. If it’s such a big deal, Miss Romanoff,” He began, and Clint froze, sitting completely still. He must have thought that his dad was asking Natasha to be his date.

“Sir?” She responded politely, only straightening in posture.

“You can have the night off tomorrow, you do not have to attend, but you are still invited, without the restriction on protecting my son,” he said. Natasha remained unmoved, but everything in her was saying that she should argue with him. Clint turned slowly in his chair before Natasha responded.

“Yes Sir, that will be a relief, to be quite honest with you,” Natasha lied, and he bought it hook-line-and-sinker. He waved his hand, and Clint stood from his seat.

“Find a date, Son, it shouldn’t be too hard for you,” His father laughed, and Clint began to sulk beside Natasha as they walked to the car.

The car ride was torture. Clint hadn’t said a word the entire time, and they were just a few blocks away from the apartment.

“Natasha, what the hell was that?” Clint said finally breaking the silence. Natasha let out a sigh of relief; she wondered what she had done wrong, and now it was clear. Clint did want to go to the gala with Natasha, but now she refused to do so.

“I couldn’t just say no, he’s the fucking president, Clint. If I say no to him, I’m saying no to the highest authority in the country, and you know I don’t need that breathing down my neck,” Natasha said parking the car in the parking lot of apartment complex.

“Natasha c’mon,” Clint whined, and Natasha rolled her eyes. She opened the door to the car, and Clint rushed out to be by her side.

“Invite Bobbi or something, I’m sure anyone you call won’t mind,” Natasha said walking to the building, and Natasha stopped at the elevator. Clint stood beside her, rocking back on his heels and staring at her. He was waiting for her to react to him, and he had those big puppy dog eyes that somehow worked when Natasha _really_ didn’t want them to. The doors opened, and the stepped inside. Their apartments were the only two on the 5th floor, and now Natasha was realising she would have to put up with the puppy dog stare until one of them broke, and she definitely did not want to break; Clint would hold that over her for 3 months, and she didn’t need that. They stood for a solid 5 seconds before Clint turned to her, groaning in frustration.

“Will you at least go. I just want you there, okay?” He whined, and the doors separated. Natasha dug into her pocket and fiddled with her keys.

“Clint,” She started but Clint took a few steps in front of her and started to walk backwards.

“Please, Tash,” He said, almost praying that she would say yes.

“If I don’t want to go, it’s my decision. Please, respect that,” Natasha sighed. She was tired of the conversation, and Clint noticed. They stopped at her door, and Clint dug his hands into his pockets.

“Okay. Come over in 10,” Clint sighed, placing a kiss on Natasha’s cheek, and unlocking his apartment.

“See ya soon, babe,” Natasha let the words fall out, and she smiled to herself, feeling like a 15-year-old who got kissed by her crush; she was so giddy. Natasha changed into her, or Clint’s, shirt, and went over to Clint’s apartment.

***

“Are you sure you aren’t coming?” Clint asked, adjusting his suit one last time in the mirror. Natasha nodded, getting on her toes to fix his tie. “I would feel better if you were coming,” He smirked. Natasha patted his breast pocket, laughing.

“I’ll see you when you come home,” She said, and Clint sighed in acceptance. Clint leant down, locking his lips with Natasha’s, holding onto her hips with such care, it was almost like he thought she would break. He parted from her, a smile growing on his face, then he pecked her on the nose.

“See you later,” He straightened himself again and left his apartment. She left his apartment just as the doors closed to the elevator, racing into her own apartment. Clint had rung up someone to take as his date, and refused to tell who it was. Natasha has never been a jealous person, but this fact was infuriating to Natasha. _Why wouldn’t he tell her who it was?_

Clint knew that Natasha’s payback was always a bitch, and Natasha had a way of torturing Clint that couldn’t be classified as torture.

***

Natasha stepped out of the cab, tipping generously, and making her way inside. Her hair was pinned up, falling in curls, just touching her shoulders. Her dress was a darker shade of red, hugging her tightly, having a plunging neckline, reaching just below the bottom of her ribs. It hung from her shoulders, and was see-through red wherever there was not a distinct silver flower petals designed, mostly around the bodice, and the heavily fabricated bottom of the dress that dragged along the floor. Even with her heels it dragged across the floor; Natasha felt the need to keep it above her toes as she walked. She stood at the entrance of the gala as they asked for her identity. She strided inside, and she could feel people murmuring about her as she walked past them. She scanned the room, hitting Clint’s gaze almost instantly. He was sipping some wine, and he had to stop as he saw her. Natasha smirked, relishing in the moment. But her mood was changed as she noticed Clint’s date. Jessica Drew, his past security detail. Clint had left her on her own, and had raced over to Natasha.

“See you decided to show up,” Clint whispered, and Natasha glared at him.

“Still here as protection. There’s a gun strapped to my thigh if I need it,” Her voice was harsh, and she was angry. She was angry at the fact that he called Jessica, someone she didn’t know, and at this point, didn’t trust.

“If anyone else tries to even touch you, _I_ might have to use it,” Clint flirted, and Natasha turned to him. Clint was biting his lip, and Natasha turned his jaw, getting close to his ear.

“Your date is waiting,” She whispered, and Clint groaned, Natasha shoved him lightly into Jessica’s direction and Clint got the memo; Natasha was mad. Natasha turned away from Clint, trying not to get too hung up on him, she should have wanted to have a good night, and now that was her plan. She grabbed a glass of wine on a passing tray, and taking a few sips.

“You’re the infamous Natasha Romanoff?” a voice asked. Natasha turned to the man, and saw a man who looked similar to Clint, though he was older, and had light red hair. He had rough stubble along his jaw, and looked tired in his well tailored suit.

“The very same. Barney Barton, I presume?” Natasha introduced, extending her hand to Barney. He took her hand, shaking it lazily, though he seemed happy to meet her.

“The one and only,” He nodded, a smirk comfortably resting on his lips. He had managed to sneak away a glass of wine from a tray that had been avoiding him for most of the time they stood together.“He likes you a lot, you know that?” Barney said, and Natasha blinked in shock.

“Have you seen him, he hates -” He laughed, interrupted quickly

“Drop the act. Clint told me,” He said, taking a sip of his wine. Natasha looked at Clint, who was forced to dance with Jess. He looked bored, dragging his feet, and Jessica rested on his shoulder. Natasha didn’t feel jealous at this image though, she was sad that Clint had to be at the gala with someone he didn’t want to be with.

“Doesn’t keep secrets, does he?” Natasha sighed, drawing her attention back to Barney.

“Only from dad,” Natasha giggled, holding onto Barney’s arm to help her hand upright. She wasn’t a fan of heels that were unbalanced so easily. “That dress is going to attract him like a moth to a flame,” He flirted. _He was as bad as his brother._

“That’s the plan. But it seems to attract all the Barton’s” Natasha smirked, and Barney chuckled lightly.

“He said you were good at that. Noticing things people don’t,” Barney remarked, and Natasha’s cheeks flushed red, knowing that Clint had talked about her in such a way.

“Well, you know your brother, he isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed,” They both laughed, which seemed to draw them both attention. Natasha covered her mouth and Barney simply let his laughter mellow down. “Forgive me. I shouldn’t talk like that about your brother,” Natasha apologised.

“I’ve said far worse,” They laughed again, Natasha still trying to cover up her giggles. “You care for him, a lot, don’t you?” Barney asked.

“The kid has done something to me,” Natasha sighed, watching Clint try and not yawn as he and Jess had to talk with one of Clint’s father’s party members.

“He’s a ball of sunshine, ain’t he? Just makes your life feel warm,” Barney said, and Natasha smiled, watching what Clint did, and how he moved. He looked up and saw Natasha, smiling at her, and biting his lip. He had to turn away, but his gaze was continuously drawn back to Natasha.

“I have never felt this way about another person, ever,” Natasha said, and Barney laughed.

“Yeah, he does that to people” They both watched Clint, and as he noticed, Clint pointed to them both. Barney poked his own chest, and Clint shook his head and pointed again. “He’s pointing at you,” Barney whispered into Natasha’s ear. Clint raised his hand, his thumb, his index finger and his pinky raised outwards, almost like the ‘rock’ or ‘metal’ sign, only including the thumb. Natasha scoffed, not understanding, but Barney stood in shock.

“What did he sign?” Natasha laughed, and Barney shook his head.

“Uh, I should probably tell you but..” Barney said, rubbing the back of his neck. Natasha shoved his shoulder lightly.

“C’mon, Barton, what did he say?” Natasha asked again, and Barney sighed.

“He said ‘I love you’” Barney said, Natasha blinked rapidly, trying to process it all. Clint looked down at his feet, biting his lip and looked up at Natasha, smiling.

“I should probably head out,” Natasha tried to get out without stumbling, but she was nervous, and didn’t know how to respond to Clint’s declaration of love.

“Listen,” Barney started, taking Natasha’s hand and slipping in a piece of paper. His phone number was written on it and a sincere smile graced his lips. “Give me a call, we’ll grab lunch sometime, and I’ll tell you all about how hard it was for Clint to learn sign language. He got confused between the word england and lesbian, probably the funniest story I know about him,” Barney tried to joke, but Natasha was a little too flustered to concentrate. She laughed out of pure nerves.

“I’m pretty sure he still gets it wrong,” She joked, but her voice was shaky.

“Natasha,” Barney said as Natasha fiddled with her dress. “He doesn’t use sign language a lot anymore. So that’s a pretty big thing he did earlier,” Barney could see her now, how vulnerable she was, how she was scared.

“I know,” Natasha smiled weakly, and gathered up her dress, hurrying out of the gala complex.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dress inspiration - http://www.ziadnakad.com/fw14/big/16.jpg  
> Signing for 'I love you' - http://everhear.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/i-love-you.jpg - I used the simple


	8. Natasha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this has more smut in it, such surprising, many sex. It's probably bad and I'm sorry but I love you guys. Here it is. Have fun and enjoy xx

Natasha needed to clear her head, think rationally and make sure she knew how she would respond to Clint the next time she saw him. He had just said, well signed, ‘I love you’, and Natasha didn’t think they were at that point in their relationship to say it. She was walking down the street, the wind picking up, and storm clouds echoing overhead. She would have to find a cab soon before the rain ruined her dress. She was trying to hail a cab, them all passing her, and her anger was rising. She kept extending her arm, whistling loudly, and they still ignored her. A car blared behind her, and Natasha almost tripped on her heels. She turned and Clint was getting out of his car.

“I didn’t even notice you leave! C’mon, it’s about to pour!” Clint said, offering the car door. Natasha wanted to refuse, to keep walking and get a cab, but Clint could take it as an mocking of his declaration of love to her. The rain started to trickle down, then became heavier within a number of seconds. Natasha looked at Clint, sighing to herself and rushing to the car. She guided herself into the backseat. Clint sighed, closing both the front and back door and turning to the drivers seat. He sat inside, turning the engine on and driving for a while. He seemed to be circling the block, and never reaching their apartment block. “What’s with the cold shoulder? Is it about Jess?” Clint asked, and Natasha turned her head to see outside, not paying attention to Clint anymore. She must have looked angry, but she was trying to remain calm. If she looked at Clint, she might have broken down and told him that she couldn’t say the words he had signed to her. The car stopped abruptly, parking in an alleyway a couple of streets from their apartments. Clint started to crawl into the backseat, and Natasha stared at him in confusion.

“What are you doing?” Natasha asked, caution following in her words, but Clint still climbed into the backseat. He pulled Natasha’s legs onto the seat, and forced her to lay her back on the cool leather of the seat.

“That dress has been teasing me all night,” Clint whispered into Natasha’s ear, holding her against the car seat with all his body. He was growing harder against Natasha’s stomach, and she almost whimpered like a hurt puppy. Now he was tempting her. Clint picked up the bottom of her dress, placing a hand in between her legs. Natasha gasped, and Clint covered her mouth. “We can’t make noise, baby,” He laughed. Natasha closed her eyes, pulling on Clint’s collar as his fingers adjusted her underwear, and slipped two fingers inside, slowly.

“It would be so much better if I ripped this damn thing,” Clint said, still trying to gather up the dress.

“Clint Barton, I would be disappointed if you ripped this dress,” Natasha managed to say; her breath was almost gone, and Clint had a way of making her tremble with the simplest touch.

“God, I want you,” Clint said, his lips trailing down her neck and into the middle of her chest. His breath was getting heavier as he kissed her chest, and Natasha could feel every part of her body react to Clint like he was a cure for everything bad in her life. She needed something else though, something more…concrete.

“Did you mean what you said?” Natasha whispered, and Clint raised his head from her chest, his brow deepening.

“About ripping the dress?” He asked, and looked down at her figure. “I mean, I was only joking, but I can totally do it,” He began, biting his lip like he was more turned on by the idea of tearing off her clothes than actually having sex with her.

“If you tear any part of this dress, I will shoot your kneecap,” Natasha scowled, grabbing Clint’s jaw in her hand.

“Then what are you talking about?” He asked through chubby cheeks.

“What you signed to me, did you mean it?” She asked again, letting his jaw go and Clint finally sat up right, cleaning off his hand with his handkerchief from his blazer pocket.  

“Barney told you?” He asked, gobsmacked.  “Shit,” He whispered to himself, placing a hand on his head. Natasha looked down at herself, pulling her leg into her body, defensively. Clint noticed, and tugged on Natasha’s legs. “No, no, not like that, Tash. I just…I thought you would just laugh at it, I didn’t think Barney would actually tell you,” He explained, rubbing the back of his neck.

“But did you mean it?” She asked, wondering if he could see her blushing.

“Tash,” Clint said slowly, not wanting to answer.

“Did you mean it?” Natasha pestered, and Clint groaned.

“Yes, for christ sake, yes, I meant it,” Clint sighed, his hands resting on his hips. Natasha picked up his chin, and kissed him on the lips, wrapping her hands around her neck. Clint wasted no time at all in placing Natasha back down on the cold leather, and unzipping the back of her dress. She slipped it off easily, placing it on the floor or the car, and Clint was directly over her. He stared at her for a moment, looking at her now bare chest and silk underwear. He hooked onto her underwear, dragging them down as he removed his blazer, shirt, and started to fiddled with his belt. Natasha rolled her eyes, grabbed onto the waist of his pants. She tossed him into one of the seats, and started to straddle him. He dug into his pocket before she pulled his pants down and got out a condom. “Always prepared,” He smirked. Natasha forced Clint’s pants and boxers down to his knees, and Clint wasted no time in putting the condom on. Natasha sat upright on her knees, and Clint grabbed his hips, helping to guide her down onto him. Clint’s mouth collided with Natasha’s chest, and her hands used his hair for support. As soon as Natasha was on top of him, she could feel every part of her beg for him. She moved her hips up again, then back down, picking up her pace in this motion. Clint moaned against Natasha’s chest, throwing his head back as he was letting himself go. Natasha could feel herself letting go too, and she pressed her hands to the top of the car roof. Natasha started to move her hips against Clint’s, and he groaned through gritted teeth. Natasha could feel herself close to her climax, her muscles were tightening, and she was willing to scream in pleasure, but Clint took her mouth, kissing her, and taking over of giver. He thrust into her hard, keeping one hand on her face to keep her from screaming, and the other held her back tightly, pressing her against him. Natasha finally reached her peak, moaning deeply into his mouth, and Clint came like the thought of Natasha coming made it that much easier for him. It seemed to happen every time. They gave everything to each other and they wanted to reach their climaxes together, no matter what it cost. Clint separated his mouth from Natasha’s, his breathing desperate, and still in heat. Natasha still rode on top of him, smiling down at him. She placed her hands gently around his neck, and leant down to kiss him. Clint smiled, still not able to breath well, much like Natasha, but still they kissed. Natasha rested over Clint’s shoulder, and his arms wrapped around her back, pinning her against him, and tracing lines across her skin.

 

***

“Remind me why we couldn’t have driven home last night? I mean, was it really necessary to fuck in the car. I think I bruised something,” Natasha complained, rubbing her neck, and walking into the kitchen. They had managed to get home after their carsex interaction and have sex once more. Well, 3 times if you included the shower interaction. Clint had offered to make breakfast though, which was probably just coffee. Clint had only held a kitchen towel to his groin, and smiled wickedly as he turned to Natasha with her cup of coffee. She took it, rolling her eyes, and began to sit on the kitchen bench directly in front of Clint. He took the coffee pot, taking a sip from it and leaning into Natasha, placing his lips delicately onto hers.

“You know what my dad said last night before I left to find you?” Clint said, another sip taken from the pot. “That you and Barney were cute together, and that you should go out,” He said, his eyes searching for a response from Natasha. Natasha simply shrugged, not seeing the whole dilemma that Clint must have seen.

“Really? Woah, didn’t expect that,” Natasha said surprised.

“Would you consider it if we weren’t going out?” Clint asked, a spark of worry echoing in his words.

“Well,” Natasha started, “No. We mainly just talked about how stupid you were. We’d just be friends,” Natasha laughed, knowing Clint would feel better. Barney was a loving and supporting brother, and meant a lot to Clint, it must have been hard for him to think that his girlfriend and his brother would be better together than what they were.

“You guys are horrible,” Clint said, leaning again for a kiss. Natasha responded quickly, kissing him, still slightly sleepy. “Nat,” Clint asked, and Natasha smiled at him innocently. “I want you to be completely honest with me,” He started, and Natasha’s brow creased.

“Okay, what is it?” She was curious as to what he had to say,

“Did I scare you last night, with the whole signing thing,” Clint asked, and Natasha shuffled on the bench top.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen you sign before,” Natasha said raising her eyebrow, trying to joke, but Clint wanted a serious answer, that was clear by the way he rested against the bench between Natasha’s legs.

“No, but what the sign meant. Did it scare you?” He said, and Natasha sighed. She placed her mug down and held his cheeks softly.

“Yes. I mean. You’ve flipped my world on it’s head, and what’s it been, 3, 4 months? How have you gotten so hooked on me in that amount of time?” She admitted, and Clint looked down at Natasha’s leg. He pushed off from the bench, and went to the bedroom. Natasha sighed, and jumped off from the bench. She started to follow Clint, but he emerged from the bedroom, zipping up his jeans. He had a bright smile on his face like he had finally come up with an amazing reason as to why he was in love with her.

“That’s nearly 120 days. I have had 120 days of you and I want hundreds and thousands more. I love you, Nat,” He said, and Natasha drew a sharp breath in. She hadn’t heard him say it before and it was like magic. It was like feeling she got when she stared at the stars at night and suddenly a shooting star would rip through the skyline. Clint narrowed his brow and looked down at Natasha, concerned.

“I just haven’t heard you say it,” Natasha admitted, smiling.

“It’s okay,” Clint said, a hand pressed to her cheek and his thumb caressing it. He had the brightest smile on his face, and sighed looking at her. “I don’t expect you to say it,” He smiled, a sense of comfort in his words.

“Really?” Natasha asked, and Clint brought you Natasha into his chest.

“I know you Nat, you’re scared to say it. But I know you feel it, and I’m okay with waiting,” He said, stroking the back of head.

“It’s weird how words scare me more than guns,” Natasha murmured, and Clint laughed.

“C’mon, Tash, I found this new show that I think we’ll like,” He said, and kissed the top of her head.

“What’s it called?” Natasha asked, and kept holding onto Clint’s side as they walked.

“ _Agents of Shield_ or something,” He said, putting his arm around Natasha as they headed to the bedroom.

***

They managed to get through a majority of the episodes through the day, Lucky laying in between the two of them. Clint began adjusting his hearing aid, only a few times, but it seemed to be bothering him more often than not.

“I need a new one of these, I swear,” He laughed, his voice a little cautious with his words.

“Teach me how to sign. I know bit and pieces,” Natasha said, and Clint looked at her inquisitively. “But wouldn’t it be good if we could talk when people didn’t know what we were saying?” She asked, and Clint smiled at her.

“I’m a little hopeless, but I think I remember the easy stuff for you,” He kissed the edge of her nose, smiling afterwards.

“Plus, it’s going to take time to get a new one in, and this,” Natasha mocked, "Isn't doing much else beside decoration," and Clint rolled his eyes.

“Ha - Ha, very funny,” He said sarcastically, taking her hands. His fingers intertwined with hers, and he picked up their hands, kissing hers, completely content and happy with where they were.


	9. Clint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is quite short, but updates should be coming later. Got some major projects to hand in but this is all I could come up with. It's kind of pointless to the story line, but I think you guys will like it. Okay, go and enjoy xx

Clint never said ‘I love you’ to someone before, nor had he meant it, but with Natasha, he had felt like he could reach the moon and the stars beyond it. He was a little over the top, but he still felt so happy to be around someone so magnificent. Natasha slept next to him, with the streetlamp outside his window peeking in and highlighting her fiery hair. He smiled down at the figure sprawled against his chest, her fingers still as they wrapped around him. He could feel her heart beating, like a soft drumming against his own, which pumped wildly. He could not compare anyone to Natasha, and would never care to meet someone else. She was perfect with all her bossiness, her mood, the way her nose scrunches up when she’s confused or disgusted; the two were usually the same thing when it came to Clint.

“Are you still awake?” Natasha asked suddenly, and Clint drew in a sharp breath, not expecting her to speak.

“Yeah, I’m awake,” Clint hummed, his voice huskier than he thought it was going to be. Natasha flicked her hair up, and looked at Clint, though her hair fell in front of her face again. Clint laughed, and moved her hair as a smile spread on her face.

“Did you even go to sleep?”

“Not really. I think I slept a little after we were done, but I woke up at around 2am. I think it’s 3 at the moment,” Clint explained, sighing out of exhaustion, but didn’t intend on sleeping. Natasha crawled up further, making her chest fall in line with Clint’s, and she traced his jaw, her nail picking up his stubble.

“What’s troubling that pretty little head of yours,” She asked, knowing exactly what was keeping Clint awake. Something was on his mind, otherwise he wouldn’t have been awake. Clint sighed, kissing Natasha’s forehead.

“You’re too good to me,” He whispered, and Natasha smiled. “I’m just worried,” He muttered. “I’m worried that people are going to find out about us, and your career is going to be shot because I couldn’t keep it in my pants,” he said getting angry at himself.

“Clint Barton, you listen to me,” Natasha hoisted herself up on her elbows on top of Clint. It was painful, but kept Clint grounded to where he was. “You asked me if I didn’t want to do this. You gave me an out, and I completely rejected it because I was tired of fighting what we obviously have,” She smiled, her cheeks plump with joy, growing rosy in colour.

“God I love you,” Clint muttered, and Natasha drew a breath. “Sorry, I forgot you don’t like me saying it,”

“Never apologise for feeling, unlike me who has none,” Natasha joked, and Clint cupped her face in his hands.

“You feel just fine,” He said, placing his lips softly on hers. He rubbed his thumb gently against her cheek and smiled mid-kiss. “In more ways than one,” He whispered, and Natasha giggled against his lips. He moved his hands down, wrapping them around her waist, and rolling her on her back in the bed. He was right. He didn’t intend on sleeping.

 

***

“Clint get up now!” Natasha yelled, and she was scrambling around his bedroom. He got up, noticing the coffee pot resting on his nightstand. Natasha was skidding across Clint’s floorboard, searching for something frantically.

“What are you doing?” Clint asked, his voice not quite right. Somewhere between his own voice and the voice of a man who smoked 4 packs a day.

“Well,” Natasha started, kissing Clint’s lips, alerting him somewhat. “Your dad called you, and I may or may not have accidentally answered it. He’s about 5 minutes away, as of 3 minutes ago,” Natasha said, fiddling with her pants, and taking one of Clint’s white dress shirts as her own. She tucked it firmly into her pants, adjusting it for her bust and making it fit the way it should on her figure.

“What?! What did you say when you answered it?” Clint said, springing from his bed in an effort to try and find something in his chest of drawers that would be suitable. Tracksuit pants would do for now.

“I said that you were simply sleeping and I was waiting for you to get up,” She said in a panic, checking her watch again, and fiddling with her blazer.

“What are you even searching for?” Clint asked, pulling his tracksuit pants on, still not up for getting up, but was in too much of a panic to be lazy. He took a sip from his coffee pot and there was a hammering of the door that could only be made by a bulky security personnel that Clint’s father would have. Clint followed behind Natasha resting against the doorframe to his bedroom and waited for Natasha to open the door. She opened it, and his father walked in behind one security member, then followed by one more.

“I have come here today to ask you a question,” His father began, standing in between the security members. Clint noticed that Natasha hadn’t moved from the door, but rather, closed it and kept her eye on him, judging his movements and seeing if she should stop him at any point. “Would you like to attend the circus with your mother and I?” He said, and Clint’s brow creased.

“Yeah, of course, but why wouldn’t you just call and tell me that?”

“I may have expected to see you with someone with the way you’re acting lately. Maybe even Jess?” His father said inquisitively.

Clint scoffed loudly, and tried to refrain from laughing too hard. “I’m not seeing Jess, dad,” He said, and he watched as his father walked around his apartment. He bent down, and laughed, picking up something from the ground.

“You have been seeing Jess,” Clint father said, his finger hooked around a pair of red lace underwear, extending it further from his body. Clint’s jaw tightened, and refused to look in Natasha’s direction at all. _That_ was what she was looking for.

“I’ve been seeing someone dad, but it’s not Jess,” He said, not lying, but not telling the entire truth. His father threw him the pair of underwear, and Clint caught them in his hand. He bunched them quickly and took them into his pocket. “Is that it dad?” Clint asked, wanting some time alone with Natasha, but he seemed to wanted to find more evidence of this mystery girl that Clint was dating.

“Yes. But you will have to tell me about this girl. I hope this one hasn’t been ruining your fun,” His father said, gesturing towards Natasha, and Clint tried as hard as he could not to smirk and say ‘She’s been causing all the fun’.

“She has kept her distance, thank the lord,” Clint lied, and smiled at his father. His father patted his arm, and extended his hand to Natasha. Natasha shook it hard and glared at Clint. She was mad for so many reasons, and Clint was definitely going to get punished for it. His father and his security exited and took the elevator down to the parking lot. Clint turned to Natasha, who had been throwing fireballs with her eyes, or she would be if she could do something like that

“You’re an ass,” She said, shoving his shoulder. Clint smirked and pulled out her underwear. Natasha snatched it from his hand. “If you hadn’t thrown them across the fucking room last night I would have found them easier this morning!” Natasha growled, and Clint was forced to keep in his laughter.

“Does that mean you’re not wearing anything underneath those pants?” He flirted, and Natasha’s brow narrowed in anger as she shook her head. As Clint’s smirk grew, her head shook wilder, and she backed away from Clint. Clint chased her around the apartment, her cries of ‘no’ weren’t anger, but rather playful and Clint could feel himself falling more in love with Natasha just by the way she giggled at his touch.

 

***

As they returned from the circus that night, Clint was more exhausted than ever. Clint had done circus training at gymnastics when he was a kid, and the stunts that they attempted were quite under rated in his point of view. Difficult, but not all that entertaining. He didn’t get to spend much time with Natasha, her attention more spent with Barney who had managed to sneak along. They talked and joked for a long while, Clint’s father constantly bumping Clint’s elbow to notice the both of them. Natasha looked so happy and excited when she spoke with Barney, Clint couldn’t help but feel jealous.

“That was an awesome night,” Natasha said, exiting the bathroom and drying her hair with a towel. She only wore his red shirt, like most nights, and smiled brightly at Clint. She could see his face, though he didn’t want to show that he was still dwelling on his jealousy. “What’s wrong now?” Natasha sighed, throwing the towel on a chair. She walked up to Clint, holding his face in her hands. He gripped onto her hands, kissing them slowly. Her touch was like magic that he didn’t want shared. He wanted her to be his forever, and so he could be selfish and steal her away from the world. But they weren’t together, they were just friends with benefits that couldn’t be counted as friends. They seemed to skip that phase quite easily.

“I just want to go out with my girlfriend without having to hide what I feel,” Clint admitted against her skin. “Dad was constantly making me see you happy with Barney, laughing and joking about the show. He was setting you two up and I had to watch it happen,” Clint sighed, and tried not to feel like he had been stabbed. It was harder than he thought it was going to be. Natasha soothed him by placing her lips onto his.

“I wouldn’t want to do that with anyone else,” She whispered, before taking her hands to the bottom of her shirt, and lifting it over her head. She was completely naked underneath, and she smiled confidently. “And I don’t want anyone else’s hands on me right now. Only yours,” She whispered, and Clint obliged willingly. She had a way with words. And a way of distracting him with her body. He would have to ask how she did that, but he already knew the answer. He was terribly in love with her not to do whatever she said. And he loved it. 


	10. Natasha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHH! I HAD A LOT OF FUN MAKING THIS CHAPTER. I know it's really short and I'm so sorry, but I will be making the next chapters better, I promise. I'm getting very dedicated to this story and I feel like I need to keep it updated as frequently as I can. If you want it on a set day, let me know and I'll do it, otherwise it's probably just gonna be updated randomly. Hope you like this one. xx

How was Clint Barton so annoyingly lovable. He was sleeping on Natasha’s couch, trying to avoid his father’s constant pursuits of finding out who his girlfriend is. She felt sorry for him sometimes though, he seemed to be more worried about not being able to be with Natasha in public and how he couldn’t express his feelings towards her. He loved her so much, and he was never able to show it. ‘Hating’ Natasha was getting harder for him, and his stares were getting noticed. He woke up very abruptly, like he had a bad dream or something. Natasha sat down on her couch with him as he put his feet on the ground.

“Sorry, babe,” He apologised, kissing her cheek sheepishly.

“It’s alright. I was just worried,” Natasha explained, running a hand through his hair. His hair was flat from lying on the couch for a long period of the afternoon, and Natasha combed it back, smiling at his radiance. “What woke you?” She asked, and Clint sighed, pulling on Natasha’s hips.

“Just a bad dream. The usual stuff that wakes people,” Clint seemed bothered by his dream, and Natasha cuddled close to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“C’mon, it’s me. You can tell me anything,” Natasha said, nipping at Clint’s ear. He smiled, and combed back some of Natasha’s hair.

“I just had a dream of my life without you. Wasn’t very appealing,” Clint smirked, and Natasha rolled her eyes. He wasn’t telling her the truth, obvious by his joking manner, and she couldn’t pry it out of him just yet, so she had to plan out her next steps carefully.

“What are we doing today?” She asked, and Clint shrugged.

“Just wanted to hang out. Why don’t you have a nice shower and we can chill here and watch some crap movies?” Clint laughed, and Natasha sighed.

“Sounds awesome, I’ll be back in 10 minutes. Don’t go anywhere,” Natasha hummed against Clint’s lips, pressing them together as she stopped talking. Clint smiled gently against her, touching the back of her neck tenderly. Natasha looked up at him, and it was impossible for her to stop smiling. She stood up and watched Clint until she entered the bathroom. It was getting near to impossible for her not to say ‘I love you’, and she couldn’t be happier about it.

***

Natasha changed into her pajama shorts and an old jumper that she used as a shirt more often than she should. She began to dry her hair with a towel and walked into her lounge room, expecting to see Clint ready with popcorn and a movie, but no one was there, with no movie playing. She felt a need to yell out for him, but knew she wouldn’t get an answer. She began to search as she got changed into her business attire. She raced to his apartment and only found Lucky with a couple of bones, and an unusual bandana around his neck. Natasha fiddled with it and found a note written on a folded piece of paper attached to the fabric. Clint was being a pain as always.

 

_‘Hey Tash, I’m going to guess you’ve just come out of your shower pretty shocked to find me not there, but this is really important. I need to tell you about my dream but I also had to go out and get you something. So please, go into my room and you’ll a note with the dream on it. Be back soon. I promise I won’t be long. - Clint’_

 

If the President were to find out Clint was out on his own, Natasha would be in deep shit. She rushed to his bedroom, finding the note on his bedside table. On the front of the piece of paper was writing.

 

_‘I have had this repeated dream for a couple of weeks, so I managed to write it down after the first 3 times. I wanted to see if it differed. It hasn’t’_

 

Natasha’s brow narrowed and flipped the piece of paper.

 

_‘It usually starts with me sitting in the middle of the parking lot. The one downstairs. There are no cars, but it’s always night and there is only one light on around me. After a while one turned on metres away. You’re standing there, bleeding from your stomach. As I stand up to get you, you collapse to the ground, and as I run to you, you keep getting further and further away. I can never reach you in time. The light around you fades and I can never find you. I always fall to my knees crying, as I would if I saw you die. After a while, you pick up my chin and ask me why I didn’t save you. Then I wake up. I can’t live without you Natasha. I know it’s pathetic, and stupid to say so, but you mean so much to me now, and I need something to show how thankful I am. I should be home soon. Please wait. I love you - Clint’_

 

Natasha could feel her chest tightening as she read through the note. No wonder he was getting so upset about these dreams. The woman he loves was dying and blamed him. But why would he be thinking such a thing? Natasha didn’t want him to feel like anything that happens to Natasha is his fault. It’s her job to put herself in harms way, it isn’t his fault if she were to get hurt.

  
  


***

Natasha sat on the couch, waiting hours and hours for Clint to return home. She wanted to go out and find where he had run off to. Maybe he had run off, trying to avoid hurting her. But he wouldn’t do that, would he? Natasha couldn’t sit around. She began to pace, her feet probably wearing out the fine finish of Clint’s floorboards. Her nails wouldn’t be the same from all the biting she was doing. She wasn’t used to being sidelined. She was used to putting herself out there in the field, risking her life and everything she had to find out the solution to whatever may be bothering her. But Clint wanted her home, and what if he got home when she was out, would he think she ran off? How was she meant to keep calm with her mind racing so rapidly. She could feel herself getting into a panic, and she was worried that she had left Clint alone in a moment where he could actually need her.

“Would you please let me go?” Natasha heard Clint shout from down the hall. Oh thank the lord he was okay. She wanted to rush out, hold him in her arms and punch him for getting so worried. But the way he spoke meant he was with someone, and she couldn’t do any of that. Well, maybe the punching thing. The door opened, and Clint stood with his collar pulled upwards but a bulking man. His face was bloody, his clothes ripped, and his knuckles bruised. He had been in a fight. She knew she should have gone searching for him.

“Clint! Where the hell did you go?” Natasha yelled as Clint fought with the man on his collar. She was going to hold his face to inspect his bloody lip, but the President stepped around the corner, and she stood upright without paying attention to the President.

“Your his security, you should know,” The President barked, and Natasha lowered her head like a hurt puppy. She didn’t need the President on her bad side. She was already in dark water as it was, how was she supposed to get out of this.

“It’s not her fault, I ran off to get a gift for someone,” Clint said, and Natasha tried her hardest not to smile, knowing he would only leave her in the dark if he was getting her something important or special.

“Then how did you get hurt?” Natasha asked inquisitively.

“The people serving me didn’t particularly like my personality. I mean, you usually keep me in line so I don’t get my ass beaten. Turns out I needed you there,” Clint smiled, but stopped himself as he remembered who was in the room. The President cleared his throat and stepped close to Natasha. She straightened her shoulders, and he glared daggers at her.

“Natasha Romanoff, you are completely unreasonable, and should have constant tracking of Clint. You left him and we found him being punched in the gut because you weren’t there to defend him,”

“I’m sorry, Sir, I’ve just been distracted, it will never happen again, I promise you that,” Natasha defended herself, keeping eye-contact with him, trying to stare him down as much as she could without affect.

“Distracted?! You’ve been _distracted_? What has distracted you so much that you completely lose sight of protecting my son!?” He yelled, and Natasha couldn’t think fast enough on her feet.

“Sir, I uh,” Natasha stuttered, but the stern face of the man in front of her made her mouth go dry, and she knew she should stop talking.

“Miss Romanoff, I do not want anymore excuses from you, and I will not have a complete idiot protecting my son any longer!”

“Enough dad!” Clint yelled, taking Natasha and the President by surprise. “I will not have you disrespect my girlfriend like that!” Clint yelled, the room filling with silence. Natasha had never been more scared in her life. 


	11. Clint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT HERE IS THE NEXT CHAPTER! have fun! xx

Why did he say that? What possessed him to come into the line of fire? Why was he such an idiot.

“What did you just say?” His father asked. Immediate regret filled his chest and the dryness in his mouth was forcing him to feel sick. “You’re dating this girl?” He said again, and Natasha stepped in front of him. Clint grabbed Natasha’s hand for reassurance. He took a deep breath and nodded. “Clint, let this go. You are only doing this for some childhood rebellion,” He said, and Clint couldn’t help but narrow his gaze.

“Bobbi and Jess were like that, and they knew it. They were there for a good time. Natasha is different,” Clint yelled. “You might want this to be some fling, but Natasha means a hell of a lot to me, and I won’t have you ruling over my love life anymore!” Clint barked, his grip on Natasha’s hand tightening. She responded by squeezing back as though to say that she was still there if he needed her.

“She is your security,” His father yelled, and Clint stepped forward in an desperate act to demean his father.

“And she’s kept me safe for months. We’ve been dating for nearly 5 months now dad. This is the only time I’ve been on my own and look what happened. Natasha is the only thing in my life that keeps me happy and safe. What’s more important to you? My happiness and safety or your political agenda? Think carefully about your answer dad,” Clint warned. His father didn’t make eye-contact with Clint, his gaze constantly darting between Clint and Natasha. He sighed deeply, taking a step back.

“I want you two in my office tomorrow. For now. Keep him safe,” He said to Natasha, turning on his heels and leaving with his security by his side. Clint fell to his feet out of exhaustion. He was tired and sore, and arguing with his father drained him far more than he would care to admit. Natasha bent down, placing her hands tenderly on his cheeks. Her finger trailed over his broken lip, touching the deep cut that drained blood from his mouth.

“You’re a fool, Clint Barton,” Natasha hissed, her hands gracing over his face. Pins roamed over his face in pain, and he could feel his lip still bleeding. He licked his lip, smiling pleasantly at his now confirmed girlfriend.

“But I’m your fool,” He said, his voice a little shaky. He hadn’t realised how much standing up to his father would strike so much fear in him.

“A fool none the less,” She tried not to smile, but she was too amused by his words.

“I’m sorry if you lose your job over this, I just...” He tried to apologise, but Natasha placed a gentle finger over his lips, smiling at him.

“You were being selfish. But a good kind of selfish. I’m just happy it’s out. Your acting was getting terrible,” She laughed, and Clint chuckled lightly, pulling on Natasha’s hips as they sat on the floor together.

“You’re mean,” He said, pressing his forehead to hers. “Kiss it all better,” He asked sweetly, and Natasha smirked at him.

“Only because you actually need it,” Her lips touched Clint’s, but he winced once her lips pinned his lower lip between them. “We’re going to have to be careful with that,” She said, touching his cut with her finger.

“Oh, I’m sure you will only make it worse,” Clint flirted, and Natasha’s jaw dropped slightly. She bit her lip and kissed him again. She leaned down on his chest, which felt like knives piercing his skin, but Natasha’s touch was light enough for Clint to forgot about it. She hitched up her work skirt, gathering it around her waist and began to straddle Clint. He loosened her blouse, and she unbuckled his belt and pants like they had rehearsed it many times before. Clint hadn’t realised how easy it was for him to get hard around Natasha, as he was begging against his boxer briefs. Natasha pushed them down, moved her underwear to the side, and sat down on him slowly. Clint’s head hit the floor, and a frustrated groan escaped his lips. Natasha started to move up and down, started to set a slow pace which drove Clint nuts. It only took him a few moments to realise it was the first time they hadn’t used a condom, and the sensation was different, like it let Clint have free reign over what happened. He had always had it, but Natasha was letting him take her fully, without restriction. Natasha’s hands landed on Clint’s chest, pushing him to the floor. Her nails tore at his shirt and revealed all the bruises from his fight underneath. She ran a hand over his most defined bruise over his rib cage, and she bit her lip.

“I could break your rib,” Natasha said, though, her breath didn’t warrant fear, it was anticipation, like she wanted to test herself. Clint sat up, pinning Natasha to his chest, and turned her down on the floor. His right hand slammed down on the floor next to Natasha’s head, and the other pulling her waist against his. He desperately wanted to dig his fingers into the floorboard, like clenching onto bedsheets, but the solid object refused to bend under his craving hand. His elbow collided with the wooden floors, and he rested his chest against Natasha as he thrust faster into her hips. They were both getting dangerous with their actions, Clint thrusting faster and harder into Natasha and Natasha’s hands scratched from shoulder to waist, cling to Clint and begging from him to stay with her. Natasha’s muscles contracted and convulsed around Clint, and she met her climax eagerly. Clint still thrust hard into her, his breath touching Natasha’s skin as her moans and screams echoed in his ear. As he finally came, he bit into Natasha’s shoulder, like in a form of animal instinct, and moaned straight into her shoulder. Natasha groaned into his ear, tugging on his hair. He pulled his boxers back up, and rested flat on top of Natasha.

“We should try that again sometime,” Clint said breathlessly, and Natasha scoffed underneath him. He chuckled, and raised his head to see Natasha. She was smiling in afterglow, and her radiant hair was showing her in a pure state of excitement and exhaustion. Clint rolled off Natasha and panted against the floorboards.

Lucky was nowhere to be found, thank the lord. Clint wondered if Lucky knew when not to be in the room. Clint had trained his dog without meaning to apparently.

****  
  


***

Waiting was getting to the point where Clint thought it should be classified as torture. Natasha didn’t sit, but rather stood and watched as Clint paced. He wondered how she could stay calm, but she was always the better one in the relationship. Even when she was jealous, she could still get Clint to act like the child.

“When will he let us in, this is getting ridiculous,” Clint said, finally taking a seat and folding his arms. He wondered how much Natasha thought of him like a child, but when she came to his side, touching his knee as she looked up at him, her eyes warned him to stay calm.

“He’s doing it on purpose, you know that,” Natasha said, and Clint sighed. Natasha stood up, leaning her hip in towards him. Clint’s head fell into her stomach and his arms wrapped around Natasha’s waist. It was a long hold, and Clint felt Natasha run a hand over Clint’s head. A throat was cleared and Clint looked up as Natasha backed away. His father stood at his door, hands behind his back, and his brow narrowed. He simply walked back into his office and they knew they had to walk in after him. Clint stood behind his chair, not taking a seat, and Natasha stood next to him.

“Now,” His father started, sitting at his desk, and his hands resting over one another. “How long has this been going on?”

“Maybe 5 months?” Clint said, though he didn’t know how his voice sounded. A mixture between fear and confidence.

“And your feelings?” He asked.

“Mutual,” Natasha interrupted, and Clint smiled, a weight seemingly lifted from his chest.

“This isn’t what your job entails, Miss Romanoff,” He said, and leaned back in his chest, sighing. “Miss Romanoff, can you please leave us for a moment,” He gestured, and Natasha turned on her heels and left. She turned back for a moment, trying to smile but it failed her. Clint turned to his father, and walked to the desk.

“Dad, you cannot blame Natasha for this,” He yelled, and his father stared at him.

“Do you love her?” He asked, and Clint blinked twice.

“Well, yes, she’s an amazing person. She was impossible for me not to fall in love with,” Clint whispered, and his father sighed.

“I’m tired of fighting this with you about this Clint,” His father explained, and Clint’s brow narrowed.

“Then let us be together!” Clint yelled.

“I am,” He said softly. Clint staggered back slightly, and took the chair finally. “This is just a warning. Remember, she is your protection, she is in the line of fire every second she is on duty. She can seriously hurt, and I’m sorry to say that it will be your fault,” His father explained, and Clint combed a hand through his hair. He was gobsmacked, and he was finding it hard to believe that his father was finally taking his side.

“Are you serious?” Clint asked, and his father chuckled.

“Yes, now, go and get your girlfriend. Take the day off. You both need it after I tortured you with waiting,” He laughed, and stood, extending his hand to Clint. Clint rushed from the chair and took hold of his father’s hand with both of his, shaking it wildly.

“Thanks dad, just…thanks,” Clint exclaimed, and ran out of the room. Natasha was sitting down, her hands resting on her knees, and looked up as Clint rushed out. He smiled widely, and she stood slowly. He raced up to her, picking her off her feet, and she giggled against him. She leaned down and kissed him softly, still minding his lip, but still pinning it between her lips, and forced it to bleed. Clint separated from Natasha, putting her on her feet, and smiling down at her. He licked his lip and laughed. “How are we gonna keep up our sex drive now that the secret is out,” Clint laughed, and Natasha shrugged.

“You fuck like the world is watching anyway, is it really that much of a problem?” Natasha smirked, and Clint leaned down again, kissing her softly as he stroked her cheek with his thumb.

 

 


	12. Clint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUICK UPDATE HERE WOOOO! I was just realising as I finished this chapter that there might only be one more chapter after this one. AHHHH. I've had so much fun writing this thing and don't want to finish, but yeah. I hope you guys like this chapter, and please don't kill me. Sorry in advance.

Natasha was busy getting ready in her suit, tucking her blouse into her trousers, and adjusting the collar as it was firmly buttoned at her neck. Clint hadn’t moved much since waking up that morning, mainly just rolling over in bed to watch Natasha get ready. It had been nearly two months since Clint and Natasha had admitted to his father about their relationship. They hadn’t announced it to the public, but they were comfortable to go out and act like a couple. Magazines had been speculating for a while, but they didn’t know for sure. They were labelled ‘The Son and The Security’, which made them both laugh from time to time.

On this particular day, Clint’s dad had invited them to a function that would be held out the front of the White House. It was to promote safety in the country, and more gun control regulations, or something along those lines. He didn’t want to go, but Clint decided to help out with the whole image thing. Even Clint’s mother was happier to attend, saying that seeing Clint happy with Natasha made it all worthwhile.

“Can you hurry up please? We have to be there in 20 minutes, and you know you struggle to put a tie on,” Natasha said, placing her blazer on, and flipping her hair over her shoulder. She began to pin it up when Clint pulled himself from the bed. He put on some boxers on and walked up behind Natasha. He touched her hips, his chin resting on Natasha’s shoulder. He kissed her cheek, and she smiled brightly.

“You are unbelievable, Miss Romanoff,” He said, and Natasha giggled as she turned around. She placed her arms around his neck, edging closer to him.

“Not as much as you are, Mr Barton,” She flirted, and leaned in for a kiss. As her lips touched and separated from Clint’s, Natasha’s brow creased, and she had to steady herself by gripping tight to Clint’s shoulders.

“Woah, are you okay?” Clint asked, trying to remain eye level with Natasha. She looked up and faked a smile. She simply put a hand to her head and laughed.

“Yeah, just a little dizzy I think. Think I might be low on iron or something,” Natasha waved the thought away, but Clint was still concerned. She picked up her heels and left the room, a hand still pressed to her head.

***

Clint stood just behind and to the left hand side to his father, Natasha next to him, pressing close to his side. Clint found it hard to concentrate on what his father was saying. He wasn’t sure as to why, it could be Natasha, but she was tough enough to get through things on her own. If it was serious, she would tell him if something was bad, so it couldn’t be too serious. And anyway, she looked fine now, just her average self.

“Uh, Mr President?” Someone said, interrupting his father’s voice as well as Clint’s thoughts. Clint drew his attention to a man close to the front of the stage. He was shaking and was reaching into his jacket. This wasn’t a good sign, and Natasha could feel it too as she shifted closer to Clint. He drew a gun from under his jacket and shot twice, and everyone dropped to the floor. People began to scream and security began to swarm the man as he yelled about how guns were necessary, that they provided us with security. The man was out of his mind, and obviously disapproved of Clint’s father’s decision to have stricter gun laws, and would fire his guns whenever he felt he wanted.

“Is anyone hurt?” Someone asked, and Clint guessed it was his father’s security. Clint turned to get Natasha and to get the hell out of there before another shot was fired. When he found Natasha, she was clutching onto her stomach and blood was dripping from her mouth as she tried to breath. Clint crawled over to Natasha quickly as another shot was fired. He cradled Natasha’s head onto his lap, and she began to cough, blood tainting her lips.  

“Tash! No, no. You can’t. Oh, God. Did you take the shot for me?” He yelled, angry at what he was witnessing.

“I’m your security remember,” Natasha coughed. Clint took off his blazer, wrapping it around Natasha, her face getting paler as he sat with her in his arms. He pressed his hands to her stomach, and she winced in pain.

“But a fucking bullet, really?” He yelled back, and all she did was smile.

“What else was I supposed to do,” She laughed, her hand gracing Clint’s face, and Clint knew what she was doing. She was trying to remember him in her last moments.

“Please, don’t you dare do this to me,” He said, and he couldn’t stop the tears streaming down his face. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t let her see him break, that wasn’t who they were. They were a strong couple and deserved honest emotions from each other.

“C’mon on Barton, get out of here before something bad happens,” She said, and she blinked, a tear escaping her eye. The only time he had ever seen Natasha cry.

“I’m not leaving you like this Tash, I love you too much to see you die,” He said, picking her up to sit in his lap. She groaned, her eyes drowsy and she was getting weak.

“Then leave,” She murmured, her hands loosening around her abdomen.  

“Not if I have a say in any of this,” Clint picked up Natasha and she groaned in agony. She clung to him, and he held her up, her blood staining his clothes. He carried her off the stage and everyone crowded around them. Clint’s dad saw them and ushered them along, getting them into his car. Clint placed Natasha down, keeping the pressure on her stomach strong, and Clint’s dad watched, his eyebrows firmly set in worry.

***

“Mr Barton?” A voice asked. Clint’s blood stained hands trembled against his forehead, the waiting getting unbearable. He stood abruptly, noticing the nurse who had a clipboard pinned to her chest.

“How is she? Is she alright?” Clint asked rapidly, his fingers fiddling amongst each other. He was in a state of panic. Natasha had gone into surgery and many of the. He called her parents and they were flying over with special privilege from the President. It had been 2 hours since she had been in surgery and Clint just wanted to be there the entire time to hold her hand. She wouldn’t need it, but Clint did. He was in agony himself not knowing what was going on with Natasha and how she was.

“Mr Barton, we are not allowed to divulge that information to non-family members. But the situation you are in, I have been informed that I can tell you that Miss Natasha Romanoff has come out of surgery and is doing fine. Rest is needed though,” She explained and Clint let out a sigh of relief. She wasn’t perfect, but Natasha was tough, she could do it.

“Oh thank the lord,” He exclaimed, his hands running through his hair, which no doubt had dry blood scalped through it by now.

“But there is-” The nurse tried to explain but a throat was cleared loudly behind Clint. He turned and saw his father, who had a stern look on his face.

“Clint,” His voice was deep and Clint’s gaze hit the floor. He looked up at the nurse with pleading eyes.

“Can I see here?” He asked, hoping his puppy dog eyes worked on other women like it did Natasha.

“I suppose but I -” She said, her words slowly failing her. Clint gestured to his father to follow him and so he did. Clint looked back at the nurse and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you so much,” He exclaimed once more, and began to head to Natasha’s room. Once they arrived, Natasha was sleeping in her bed.

“I warned you. It was for your own good,” Clint’s dad said, and Clint sat beside Natasha, taking her hand in his own. She was wired to machines, a ventilator inserted for a short time to help her breathe, and a blood bag hanging from the IV rack for all her blood loss. Clint felt sick looking at the woman he loved in such a state.

“Don’t you dare try to lecture me,” He responded angrily, tightening his grip on Natasha’s hand.

“Clint, I’m not trying to be mad at you, I just had to let you know,” His father sighed, resting a hand on Clint’s shoulder. Clint rose from his chair, turned to his dad and did something he never thought he would do. He hugged him. His father responded in kind, a tight grip on Clint’s shoulder, and Clint thought he would cry.

“I’m sorry dad, I just need her to be okay,” Clint’s words were muffled by his father’s shirt. They separated, and his father took hold of his shoulders tightly, and it sensed to be a very serious moment.

“I want you to be happy, Son, I do. But she can’t protect you if you are too in love to concentrate on what is important. Your safety,” He explained, and Clint looked back at Natasha, and felt the need to defend her.

“Dad, she is fully committed to her job. She took a bullet today, for christ’s sake” He exclaimed, and his father’s hand touched his cheek.

“End it, before something horrible happens that neither of you can get out of,” he said reluctantly, and left the room. Clint sat down again, and placed his head in his hands. He knew his father was right. And he had to do it now, before she died, and before they both get hurt any worse. Some wounds would heal faster than others, his mother always said. He hoped Natasha was strong enough to handle the wounds she would have inflicted after Clint ends what a miracle they were.

 

***

It took a couple of hours for Clint to get up the courage to talk to Natasha. He sat outside her room but never entering. She hadn’t woken up, but the nurse told him just before he entered that she was coming around. He entered the room, no machine attached to her now, but she still looked peaceful as her eyes fluttered open. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t sit down and talk with her about this, he just had to leave.

“I’m so sorry Natasha,” Clint’s voice broke, and he turned away from Natasha quickly as she woke.

“Why are you apologising?” She sounded like she was smiling but Clint couldn’t bare to face her.

“I can’t let you get hurt again,” He said sternly, his hands acting as support as he clenched them so hard he thought he might draw blood. “Dad has put you on with another politician where your life won’t be at risk. This is the last time we are going to see each other, Natasha,” He said, lifting his chin in an attempt to stay calm.

“Don’t you dare leave me after I saved your life!” She yelled, and Clint’s shoulder shuddered at her angry voice. “At least fucking look at me!” She yelled again, and Clint shut his eyes tightly, turning slowly to face Natasha.

“I don’t want you to get hurt because of me, and I can’t...I just can’t have you around me. I love you Natasha,” He explained, slowly backing out of the room, and a hand hitting his jaw as his emotions got the better of him.

“I hate you, Clint Barton,” She folded her arms and turned from Clint. He began to wipe his face when Natasha cleared her throat. “But I still love you,” She managed to squeak out, her voice slowly dissolving into a sob. Clint left before he got the chance to see her tears.


	13. Natasha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND HERE LIES THE POSSIBLE LAST CHAPTER! I hope you have enjoyed this fic as much as I have had writing it. Super awesome that all of you have sit and read this pathetic excuse for a fanfic, but I adore writing it, and seeing all you read it was something different all together. I love you guys, and I hope you enjoy it xx

Natasha had trouble sleeping. The pain in her stomach was strong, but Natasha could sleep through that, but something else was wrong. Something was missing. She thought it could be Clint, but it was more than that. The grief she was feeling was natural for a break-up, but the intensity of the grief was overwhelming.

“Miss Romanoff?” A voice interrupted her thoughts. Two nurses walked in, one with a clipboard pressed to her chest, and the other was working on Natasha’s IV. “Miss Romanoff, we must discuss something very important with you,” the one with the clipboard said, her voice particularly sadder than what Natasha thought it would be.

“Yes?” Natasha questioned, and instinctively placed a hand over her stomach.

“We are not sure if you were aware, but, around the time of the shooting, had you missed your period?” The nurse asked nervously. Natasha stared for a moment, clearing her throat slightly.

“Uh, well, yes, is there something wrong?” Natasha asked, and she was worried about what the response was going to be.

“Miss Romanoff, we don’t have an easy way to put this,” She started, clenching the clipboard tighter, and the other nurse placed her hand on the nurses shoulder. “But when you were shot, you were about 8 weeks pregnant. You lost it when you were shot. We are so sorry,” Natasha didn’t respond, and the nurses left not knowing how else to console her. Natasha placed a hand over her mouth, and began to sob wildly. She hadn’t cried in years, and in that moment, she had broken down so easily over something she never knew she had. She knew why she felt so much grief. She had lost her child, and could feel the loss of the baby that was inside her.

“Darling?” A thick Russian accent asked, and Natasha looked up from her stomach. Her mother and father stood at the door, and Natasha cried more. She didn’t expect to see her parents, and they came around to her, holding them to their chests. She began to sob, and her mother sat on her bed, comforting her like a child to her mother’s bosom, exactly what Natasha needed, but always what she had lost.

“Mama, I’ve miss you so much,” Natasha sobbed, and her father sat on the chair beside the bed. His hand was constantly on Natasha’s, and his comforting touch was always there.

“My child, it’s alright. I’m right here as long as you need. The boy has given us as much time as he like,” Her mother said, calming her, but also sparking emotions that had been built up for years.

“God, I hate him,” Natasha cried, and her mother patted her head, soothing Natasha with a long hum in her chest. She sung a song that reminded her of her childhood.

“My sweet Natalia, it’s going to be alright,” Her father said, tightening his grip on her hand.

“Natalia, we are here for you as long as you need,” Her mother said again, and Natasha hugged her Mother tighter, and tugged on her Father’s hand.

***

‘This is a formal letter to Miss Natasha Romanoff, who will receive a medal of honour for her service to the President and his Son, Clint Barton’

Natasha sighed. It had been around 4 weeks since the shooting, and Natasha’s parents had left the week after they arrived, making sure she got home alright. She hadn’t even heard from Clint, which probably wasn’t his choice, but still, the action hurt. It was a formal invitation for Natasha to receive a medal of honour, her job of protecting Clint was being recognised. Clint didn’t live next door anymore, he moved in with his father, most likely to keep him away from Natasha.

Natasha wasn’t sure why she kept defending Clint, it was his choice to break up with Natasha, and yet she was still not angry with him. She was just sad without him. Natasha got to keep Lucky, and seeing him reminded her on Clint. Lucky was sadder, missing Clint, not that Clint took much care of Lucky, but he always made Lucky happier than anything else. Natasha kept him active, and only once did they see Clint, he was running with headphones in, but didn’t see either of them. Lucky was a good dog, not running away when excited, but his eyes pleaded with Natasha to move after Clint.

They were happy once, and now it was just confusing. Natasha still loved Clint. He was infuriating, and funny, and wild, everything she thought she hated and she loved it so much more. But Clint was over her, and didn’t want anything to do with her anymore.

***

“Mr Barton, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Natasha’s neighbour said as she pressed her ear to the door. It was the day for her to accept her medal, and she heard her neighbour chatting away at Clint. She couldn’t help but listen in.

“Sorry, sir, I just wanted to see if you’ve seen my dog?” He asked, and Lucky could hear Clint. Natasha had to take him into her room before he made a noise.

“Mr Barton, the dog lives with the girl next door, not with me,” They said, and Natasha peaked through looking-hole. Clint looked at the door, and placed his hands in his suit pockets. He looked at his feet, and back at Natasha’s new neighbour.

“Thank you, I didn’t know where he was,” Clint said, and Natasha heard the door close next door. Natasha kept looking through the peep-hole, and wondered if he could hear her breathing. “Natasha?” He asked, and she held her mouth shut. He looked at his feet again, his hand lifting to the door, but he sighed lightly. He placed his hands back in his pockets, and began to walk down the hallway out of view of the peep-hole. Natasha sighed, and leaned against the door.

***

Natasha sat on her seat, her hands folded on her knees. The President started to talk on about how all the people receiving medals gave all they had to their job and protecting the great country of America, and its people. She wasn’t really paying attention, and kept glancing to the other side of the stage. Clint sat, jaw tight, and then, he glanced her way, sighing in exhaustion, like he was tired of fighting with himself.

“Clint,” The President said, and both their attention was drawn to the front of the stage. Clint stood and was handed a box which most likely had a medal in it.

“Clint Barton, my son, will present the next award, for he would not be alive if not for the person who receives this medal,” Clint looked at his father, and looked to be cursing him with his eyes rather than his words. Natasha stood as she was directed, and walked to face Clint. Clint took a few deep breaths, and her heart was racing in her chest. Clint was sadder than what she was, and she was now realising, he didn’t want to see Natasha because he was still in love with her too. He was sad that he couldn’t be with her.

“Miss Natasha Romanoff, you are presented with a medal of honour for your service to the President, and myself,” Clint choked out, his eyes glistening with water, his head lowering head in sadness. Natasha smiled, and she got on her toes. She touched the bottom of Clint’s chin, and he looked up at her, shocked. “What are you doing?” He whispered, and Natasha’s smile widened before she bit her lip.

“I’m going to kiss the man I love,” She admitted, and pressed her lips to Clint’s. A tear stained Clint’s pristine face, and he wrapped his arms around Natasha. He picked her off of her feet, and Natasha giggled against his lips. Cameras flashed, and Clint didn’t put Natasha down once. Natasha placed a hand on Clint’s cheek, before kissing his lips repeatedly, forcing Clint to laugh. He put her back on her feet, and pulling her into his arm, hugging her tightly. Questions were being shouted, and Clint hid Natasha’s face in his chest.

“This isn’t going to work out, is it?” Clint laughed, looking down at Natasha. She missed his touch so much, like she had gone without it for years.

“All we can is try,” Natasha hummed, and his hand landed on her head, bringing her closer.

“What will my dad say?” He asked, and Natasha looked up, still smiling brightly.

“I’m sure he can let this one slide. The media always likes a love story,” Natasha laughed, and Clint scoffed before kissing her nose.

***

“I’m happy you two are together, but can you please be careful,” Clint’s father said. He patted Natasha’s arm, squeezing it lightly to show affection. Clint had wrapped himself around Natasha from behind, his head resting on Natasha’s shoulder. His father touched Clint’s head and Clint chuckled from behind Natasha.

“Always dad,” Clint said, and Natasha smiled at the President before he stepped aside to chat with more people. There was a small gathering of all the medal recipients and their families to attend, and Clint stayed with Natasha the entire time. “So,” Clint started, his hands still resting on her hips as he moved around to face her. “How did you know I still loved you?” He asked, and Natasha scoffed.

“You’re a terrible actor, remember?” She smirked, and Clint’s smile widened as he looked at her.

“We are a mixed up pair,” He said, leaning down and placing a kiss on her lips.

“Yeah, you could say that,” She said again, and Clint kissed her again. God she missed his lips.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked, and Natasha sighed, nodding her head slowly.

***

They got back to her apartment, though, Clint did try to open his old apartment door, but Natasha stopped him. He said he would get the apartment back soon, but Natasha told him there was no point if he was going to live with her; her apartment was bigger anyway. Natasha sat on the couch, and Clint sat down, his body pressed close to hers.

“Clint, I should tell you something,” Natasha said, her voice slightly more nervous than she thought it was going to be.

“What is it?” Clint asked, a still present smile on his face.

“When I was shot, well, I uh,” Natasha said, combing a hand through her hair, and wondering if her hand was shaking. She didn’t know what she was saying, or why she was even saying anything at all.

“C’mon, spit it out,” Clint said, and Natasha laughed out of nerves.

“I found out at the hospital, the day you told me we couldn’t be together anymore, that I was 8 weeks pregnant, and that I had lost the baby when I was shot,” She said rapidly, and focused on Clint’s face.

“What?” Clint said, his face shocked, and unable to express anything else.

“I didn’t know how to tell you earlier. I didn’t know if you would care, if you should even know,” She said quickly, hoping that her fast words would cover up her fear.

“We were going to have a baby together?” He asked, his voice slightly shaky.

“Yes, I suppose,” Natasha’s brow narrowed, questioning why he was asking the questions.

“Can we still have kids if we tried?” He asked, suddenly on his knees, and hands finding Natasha’s.

“I asked, and they said I could try again and see if it worked. The results weren’t conclusive,” She said, her brow deepening as she talked.

“Do you want to have a baby together?” Clint asked.

“Clint!” Natasha said shocked and unable to process any other words.

“Hear me out, we could raise the most badass baby ever. Your skills, my street-smarts, with their amazing companion of Lucky. A nice cosy house to live in, raising a kid that could part you and part me,” Clint explained just as fast as what Natasha had done earlier. She couldn’t think straight. Was he seriously planning out an entire life with her and was willing to do it.

“Clint, we aren’t even married,” Natasha said, her throat suddenly going dry. “I’m not always really traditional, but that’s one tradition I’ve always wanted to keep,” She explained, and Clint stood up. He got down on one knee straight in front of Natasha, holding her hands tightly and smiling like he was looking at an angel. Natasha’s breath was quick and she couldn’t feel anything but her heart beating in her chest.

“Then marry me,” Clint said, and Natasha stopped breathing mid-breath.


	14. Clint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD YOU GUYS ACTUALLY BELIEVED THAT WAS THE LAST CHAPTER OH MY GOD! I COULD NEVER BE SO CRUEL. Actually it was going to be the last chapter but I decided not to cause if I read this I would shoot the writer, so here we go. This is officially the last chapter, and it's quite bad cause I rushed it. I'm sorry, but thank you for reading and enjoy xx

Natasha sat stunned on the couch, not saying a word, and her eyes wide in shock. Clint hadn’t expected to say what he did, he got so worked up and excited about spending his entire life with Natasha that he let himself get carried away. Natasha’s hand cupped her mouth, and her mouth seemed to fail her when she wanted to say a lot.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. Just forget it,” Clint said, standing up, combing a hand through his hair. Natasha took after him, catching his arm, and turning him around. “What is it? I was just -” He began, but Natasha stopped him by pulling him down for a kiss. She placed a hand on his cheek and Clint touched her waist. She let go of his collar and Clint stared at her stunned. “Wait, what?” He said, and Natasha laughed.

“You asked me a question and I never got to answer,” She said, and Clint waited. “Clint,” She started, and her hands tangled with Clint’s. “I love you so much, and I’ve never had to say it, but I need for you to know. I do love you. And an answer to your question, is yes.” She said, a smile growing on her face, and Clint couldn’t believe it. He picked Natasha up off her feet and spun her around, yelling in excitement.

“We’re gonna get married! We’re gonna get married!” Clint screamed, jumping up and down with Natasha still in his arms as she gripped onto his shoulders to stop from falling over.

 

***

 

“You nervous, kid?” Barney asked, fixing up Clint’s collar. It was the day of the wedding, and Clint was more excited than he was nervous.

“If you got to marry Natasha, would you be nervous?” Clint asked, pulling on the bottom of his blazer. He wore a red bow-tie and he knew Natasha would laugh at it as soon as she saw it. God, he was so excited to spend the rest of his life with Natasha, it was unbelievable to him that they even made it this far.

“Hell, I’m always nervous around that girl, but nah, I’d be just as excited as you are,” Barney said fixing up his own bow-tie in the mirror. Clint smiled and sighed, just waiting for the moment he could see Natasha walk down that aisle. The door opened and his father stood in the doorway, fixing his own tie. He smiled brightly at Clint and Clint smiled back, jumping slightly.

“Let’s get this show on the road!” Clint announced, patting Barney on the back.

 

***

 

The music started to played, and Clint raised his head to look down the aisle. Natasha was walking down the aisle with her veil covering her face, though, Clint still saw the smile on her face. Her red hair was so bright that Clint could see it shining and he was stunned by her radiance. Her dress clung to her figure and flowed down at her feet. The neck line came just above her cleavage, red lace that looked like flowers or leaves separated itself from the white silk dress. Clint could feel his heart racing, just needing to kiss Natasha and make it all official. Her arm was linked with her father’s and she smiled, leading her father more than what she should of been. Her father held her hand as though to tell her to stop walking so fast, but she didn’t comply, rushing just a little bit faster. They finally reached Clint, and he took Natasha’s hand just as quickly as she extended it. They must have looked like childhood sweethearts the way they acted so giddy and happy. Clint felt like kissing Natasha as soon as she stepped up to where he was, but they couldn’t do that now. They both faced the priest, and Clint leaned over to Natasha.

“How do you still take my breath away?” He asked, and Natasha giggled slightly.

“It’s a Romanoff thing,” She whispered back, and Clint smirked. They listened intently, and then the priest smiled at the two.

“The vows?” He asked, and they turned to one another. Clint gripped Natasha’s hands a little tighter. He sighed, and smiled at Natasha. She tugged on his hands as he was taking too much time for her opinion.

“Natasha Romanoff, I have never met someone like you. I know I was a pain when we first met, and I can tell that I was just a job that you had to suffer through. And somewhere along the way I fell in love with you because you treated me like I was a person that deserved a little piece of respect,” He laughed, and Natasha’s smiled widened, her teeth showing and shining behind her veil. “You care more than anyone else, and I love you 20 times more each day because you surprise me just by existing. I love you and I have no other words to express that because I am too tongue-tied to tell you how much you mean to me,” He said, letting out a sigh as he finished, hoping that his words had struck a cord. Natasha sighed soon after, her thumbs stroking the back of Clint’s hand.

“Clint Barton, I hated you when we first met, and I really shouldn’t lie to you, but I guess you already know that. But, I fell in love with you because you were everything I needed, and everything that I thought I hated. You are different, and you make me laugh and I can’t describe the happiness you give me because, well, you give everything to me, everything I need and everything I want. I don’t want you to leave my life because when you’re not here, well, for me, there’s no point in being happy any longer” Natasha said, her laugh picking up as she finally finished her vows.

“I really want to kiss you now.” Clint admitted, and everyone laughed, Natasha’s cheeks became plumper in excitement. Clint looked at the priest with pleading eyes, and he sighed, a laugh picking up slightly.

“You may now kiss the bride.” He said and Clint flipped up Natasha’s veil and kissed her so quickly, he lost his breath. Everyone in the room cheered, and Natasha laughed against his lips.

  
  


***

 

Clint held Natasha’s hand, leading her into their suite at their hotel. They both knew what they were there for, but they were both exhausted, all they really wanted to do was sleep. They both collapsed onto their bed and faced each other as they curled up on their bed.

“Thank you for marrying me.” Clint said, and Natasha laughed, the back of her hand connecting with her mouth.

“Thank you for being a pain in the ass the first time we met,” She laughed, her hand pulling at Clint’s waist. Clint took hold of Natasha’s hips, and Natasha was so close to Clint’s chest, he was surprised she didn’t mention his rattling heart against his chest.

“What do we do now?” He asked, his head resting on hers. Natasha moved away and looked up at Clint, an ever present smirk on her face.

“We have places to go, and a political career to destroy,” Natasha joked, and Clint’s jaw shifted, and he bent down to Natasha, placing his lips on hers.

“How do you even remember that?” He scoffed and Natasha laughed into Clint’s chest.

“Perfect memory, and you best remember that!” Natasha warned, and Clint brushed a hair out of her face.

“God I love you.” He said and Natasha’s legs pushed Clint down onto him further.

“You’re an idiot,” Natasha giggled, her hands either side of Clint’s face and kissed him slowly. 


End file.
